


Foreign Prince

by Morningdew12



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Kidnapping, M/M, Slow Burn (Sort Of), also its my first time doing slow burn so, ima try, theres gonna be more things showing up later but i dont want the tags to get swamped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-03-13 15:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 42,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13573557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morningdew12/pseuds/Morningdew12
Summary: Instead of Kamui getting kidnapped by Garon, it's Ryouma. Thrust into a kingdom that took his father away from him, Ryouma, young, rash, and lacking much experience in fighting and protecting himself, has no one to trust. But when he meets Prince Marx again, someone he had bonded with years ago, can Ryouma return to his family and kingdom? And what of his tarnished relationship with the Nohrian prince?





	1. Ire

**Author's Note:**

> (that summary sounds cliche af im sorry) hey so ive fallen into ryoumarx hell again and i thought of this au where its ryouma that gets kidnapped instead, thought i could write it, and did. also its kind of slow burn, not to the point when youre itching for them to resolve their problems but. its still slow burn.
> 
> also since ryouma is pretty young in this (like 11 or 12) i closed the age gaps between the siblings a lil just so they can actually have some memories of him. so sakura is like... 3 when he gets kidnapped? so while she has some very faint memories, theyre still memories. takumi is 5-6, corrin 7-8, and hinoka 8-9 (or maybe 10. ill figure it out later). also by this time ikona is dead, so mikoto is their mom. and finally, i hope this doesnt come across as ooc, but im trying to imagine how ryouma and marx act at such a young age.
> 
> (the title is inspired by the skill foreign princess lmao)

"I'm disappointed in you, Sumeragi. That wasn't even my best trap."

To Ryouma, it seemed like thousands of arrows were being plunged into his dear father's body. He could only stand around a corner of Cyrkensia's many alleyways, stricken with fear and disbelief. _This isn't happening,_ Ryouma thought,  _Father's invincible! He can't be beaten in combat!_

But this wasn't combat. This was some cheap, cowardly ploy Garon used to take Sumeragi down. Having to witness his father being defeated, killed,  _murdered_ , like  _this_ , sent a searing rage boil through Ryouma. But an irrational part of his mind still wanted to believe that his father didn't get shot brutally, that this was just a dream, a horrible, dreadful dream, and that he would wake with his father beside him.

Sumeragi grunted loudly in pain, staggering on his legs as he stuck Raijinto into the ground for leverage. With much effort, he turned his neck to look at Ryouma one last time, who had tears staining his face and an emotion Sumeragi had never seen before in his eyes.

"My son... Run," was all Sumeragi could say before falling heavily to the ground. Ryouma gasped loudly, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he gazed upon Sumeragi's corpse lying on the cobblestone, embedded with arrows, and Raijinto beside him as its light fizzled away, appearing as nothing more but a dull sword. As much as Ryouma wanted to run up to his father and take Sumeragi's last moments for himself, he knew he had to heed his father's command. As much as Ryouma wanted to slaughter the beasts in human flesh, as he called Sumeragi's murderers, it was imperative he listen to his father. As much as he wanted revenge...

He had to flee.

Ryouma silently thanked the sizeable gap between him and Garon's forces as his feet stumbled into a desperate sprint, not permitting the Nohrians' commands of chasing after and seizing the high prince of Hoshido to distract him. He turned corners endlessly, losing himself in the maze that was Cyrkensia. Eventually, after deeming himself far away enough from his pursuers, Ryouma paused in an alleyway, catching his breath like a mad man who had come out of water after staying in it for ten minutes. He leaned against the wall, pressed his hand against it, and bent over to catch his breath better. Ryouma sighed as he felt chilly moss seep between his fingers, offering a small relief to his blazing hot body. His break couldn't last long, however, as he heard the Nohrians' voices gradually become louder. Ryouma stood up straight and hastily set off once more, feeling a pang of fear, a feeling he frantically tried to force down, strike his abdomen as he thought about his father's fate.

Sumeragi. Every time his image forced itself into Ryouma's mind, he could feel the sting of tears at his eyes. But he couldn't afford to cry. Sumeragi didn't raise Ryouma to be weak, to be controlled by emotions. His father always had a clear, rational mind. Practical, yet kind and endearing. Back home, Ryouma would constantly hear how much like Sumeragi he was, from his face to his attitude, skill in swordplay, personality, and even the uncontrollably thick mane of hair. Ryouma was said to have inherited everything from his father. And once Sumeragi passed, Ryouma was supposed to become king of Hoshido, a calm, clear-headed, strong king.

Oh, how Ryouma wanted to be weak, to act his age. Just once. After watching his father get murdered, Raijinto lifeless beside him, Ryouma felt a big part of himself break. All he wanted was to be with his father again, be cradled by his strong, loving arms, and have his hair softly stroked. He wanted to be home, with both his mothers, his father, his three sisters and his brother. To spill tears of relief instead of anger and fear.

Suddenly a bolt of indignation struck Ryouma at the thought of his family in Hoshido. While he lost his father, he had to survive to see his other family, no matter what. Keeping the image of his mother and siblings in mind, Ryouma wiped his face with his sleeve, feeling the adrenaline course through him as he ran once more.

Ryouma would survive.

After a few minutes of sprinting aimlessly, the grand theatre of Cyrkensia came into Ryouma's sight, much to his relief.  _Perhaps I can hide in there_. Looking around to make sure there were no soldiers in sight, and closing his eyes to sense any other humans for good measure (Ryouma silently thanked his father for teaching him about awareness), he dashed through a side opening in the theatre. Heart beating rapidly, Ryouma meandered the enormous theatre for a safe spot, until he remembered rooms that his father liked to sneak off to when he thought Ryouma was asleep. However, in order to get there, Ryouma would have to cross the area between the grand stage and the seemingly limitless seating. Quietly opening the door that lead to the performance chamber, Ryouma looked at the door to make sure it closed silently. Before proceeding forward, Ryouma closed his eyes to make sure there was no one around. Deeming his surroundings safe, Ryouma opened his eyes and turned around, only to be greeted with the most awful turn of events.

Garon stood, so close that there was no way Ryoma could escape, wielding his demonic axe. He turned his head, ever so slowly, and smirked maliciously as he gazed at his caught prey: Ryouma. Ryouma, confused that his trusty trick didn't work this time, couldn't feel his feet on the ground; instead he could only feel a swallowing pit of rage and vengeance as he locked his eyes onto his father's murderer.

"You... You..." Ryouma struggled with his words, not being able to form his thoughts coherently. His head was pounding with blood rushing to it. Seeing Garon here, unfazed by how he betrayed Sumeragi and Ryouma...

"You killed him... My father... Betrayed his trust," Ryouma paused, fresh, salty tears riveting down his cheeks. He gripped his sword tightly, despite his quaking hands. "I... I'll kill you! You murderous wretch! _Traitor!"_ he roared, his young voice croaking with an uncontrolled ire. Ryouma's disheveled hair clung to his face wet with tears, making him look rabid as he lunged himself at Garon. Garon blocked his attack by slamming his axe against Ryouma's sword, before effortlessly striking it out of Ryouma's hand, grinning at the loud clang of the sword clattering and tumbling to the ground after hitting a wall a considerable distance away. Ryouma, stunned and distracted by Garon's power, was kicked to the ground by Garon's metal-clad foot. He was immobilized in pain; Garon had definitely cracked a bone in Ryouma's leg. Ryouma whimpered and groaned in agony at his broken leg. Garon, emitting a deep, amused rumble, strode ever so slowly to Ryouma, harsh, inhumane eyes bearing into him.

"You put up a cute fight, boy," Garon remarked, his sinister, slow speech filling Ryouma with dread. It made Ryouma feel incredibly helpless, but he maintained a harsh glare against him. There was no point in fighting against him now, what with his shattered bone and missing sword. All he could do was defiantly stare at Garon as the angry tears kept rolling.

"But alas, it was no use," Garon teased with a chuckle. How Ryouma wanted to tear him apart in the most morbid way. "Your poor father, killed by my hand. And now you," Garon stuck his heavy foot onto Ryouma's chest, reveling in the cracking of Ryouma's ribs. How many ribs, Ryouma did not know. "Orphaned at such... a tender young age." A choke escaped Ryouma, cursing himself for his weakness. "But no matter..."

A gauntleted hand reached towards Ryouma's face. He was so furious his eyesight was betraying him and his hearing was half muted from the pulsing of hot blood. He couldn't do anything against this man.

Garon would kill Ryouma, just as he had killed Sumeragi. His hand was inches away from Ryouma's face, and while lying there, pitifully, letting himself fall in the hands of a Nohrian king, Ryouma could only think of how much of a failure he was to Hoshido.

"You are my child now."

Before Ryouma's world was enveloped in darkness, he could only meekly force out two words, his voice only registering as a choked whisper against Garon's large hand. Two words addressed to those he treasured most in his life.

"I'm sorry..."

 


	2. Capture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: suggestive themes and some nasty thugs.

A constant, steady dripping on him awoke Ryouma from the world of unconsciousness. He noticed a cold hard surface under him, and a pounding headache in his head. After the fogginess in his mind cleared, he realized he was lying down. A sharp yelp escaped him when he collapsed back to the ground after attempting to sit up. It was until then that Ryouma finally regained his memoreis of what had ensued earlier; he had been captured.

By the Nohrian king. 

A feeling of anxiety appeared in Ryouma's gut, but he tried to dissipate it as best he could. He may have been the fiery, brave first prince of Hoshido, but there was no way Ryouma could act the same way now. He was defenseless, with his sword most likely taken away from him and a broken leg and ribs. He couldn't see anything either; he could only assume he was in one of Nohr's dungeon cells, what with the rotten stench, the dripping of something on him, and the wetness of the ground beneath him. He could only hope it was water he was soaked in, and not his blood or some other fluid. Ryouma had to resist the urge to hurl. 

The sound of footsteps and a crackling fire snapped Ryouma's attention upward. It was coming closer, but Ryouma couldn't see a single thing. He hoped to whatever being still watching over him out there that Garon hadn't blinded him, or worse. Ryouma tried reaching his hands to his face, but they were tightly restrained by steel shackles. He couldn't fight back, and the Nohrian's probably restrained him so as an act of mockery and superiority.

Not like he wanted to physically fight back anymore. Hoshido was but a distant land now, sealed off by an unbreakable gate in Ryouma's dreams. His fire had been put out, and not a singe ember remained. He was supposed to be the prince that never gave up, took any challenge, and always remained hopeful and optimistic. But this wasn't the peaceful squabbles or sparring sessions at home. This was reality, thrust into an enemy kingdom and his father snatched away from him.

This was war.

His family was unreachable now, and he was isolated here in Nohr, not another Hoshidan across the lands. It made him like a trophy that Garon had in his grasp.

Ryouma lie on the ground, waiting with anticipation for the approaching soldiers. A jingle of keys resonated throughout the area, and Ryouma's heart raced. He sighed, trying to stay calm. 

The cell door creaked as it swung open, and Ryouma could sense that there were at least two soldiers there. One of them came quite close to him, eerily standing still. He could see the orange aura of the torchlight against his closed eyes. While the light hurt his eyes, it filled Ryouma with immeasurable relief; Garon hadn't blinded him.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here," a very close voice sounded. Ryouma presumed it was the soldier in very close proximity to him. Judging by the faintness of the light, he wasn't the one holding the torch. "The young, vulnerable Hoshidan Prince we've been hearing all about... Heh." Ryouma felt the man's hands lift his head up harshly, digging through his hair and seemingly searching for something. He was forced to wait, unable to resist against the soldier's manhandling. Finally he stopped, and something like cloth brushed against his eyes as the man tugged a long strip of fabric through his hair. Assuming it was a blindfold, Ryouma ventured opening his eyes, but immediately regretted the action as his eyes were far from adjusting to the light. 

"Rise and shine princess. Oh, wait, you're actually a guy," the same soldier joked. "Sorry. That girly hair threw me off."

Another soldier sniggered. "Come on, princess, listen to your elders." Ryouma was able to open his eyes with minimal pain, but he didn't want to comply to these Nohrian men's wishes.

"Hey! He told you to open your eyes!" the second soldier slammed his foot onto Ryouma's chest, coaxing a scream of pain. Reluctantly, Ryouma finally opened his bloodshot eyes, glistening with tears from the pain. He scowled as the soldier remarked how 'pretty his voice was'.

"Look, boy, you've got nowhere to run, and no reason to resist. You're completely under Nohr's control, so if you want what's best for you, you better listen to us, or we'll have to  _punish_ you." the soldier with the foot on Ryouma's chest threatened.

"Garth, don't do this again. He's probably not even a teenager yet; don't you have a speck of decency?" A third voice sounded, farther away from the other two. Ryouma could see he was the one holding the torch.

"He's young, so what? That hasn't stopped us from putting these Hoshidan fuckers in their place, now has it?" Garth snapped. Ryouma could feel bile rising in his throat once more. Was he implying that Hoshidans had been taken here before by Nohrians? If his parents knew, why did they decide to keep it from him? He may have been young, but he was the high prince. And Ryouma knew of what these soldiers spoke of; he would sometimes glance at the books his father would read during his free time. The content was vulgar enough for someone at Ryouma's age to understand. Despite how much Hoshidan warriors were glorified back home, he still should've been aware of the atrocities of war.

"Yeak, Kirk. Stop being so boring. Who wouldn't want to treat these Hoshidans like the dogs they are?"

"At least you have my back, Brett. Unlike that Hoshidan sympathizer over there," Garth joked, laughing along with Brett.

Kirk remained silent.

"Now then," Garth started, "Let me see those eyes of yours, little princess." He lifted his hand to Ryouma's jaw once more, tilting his head to the side. Keeping Garth's threat in mind, Ryouma swallowed his pride and looked up at him. "A mix of green and grey... How innocent. Too bad you're Hoshidan and a male, or I would've taken you as my bride." Ryouma tried to restrain a snarl.

Brett strode to the opposite side of Ryouma, facing Garth. "Now, open your cute little mouth," he commanded. Ryouma felt incredibly violated as he had no choice but to follow their dirty wishes. He couldn't fathom having his innocence taken away from him at such an age, especially by Nohrians. "Hah, you look so submissive," he stated, reaching his fingers into Ryouma's mouth. He was so nauseous, and he was sure he was about to retch as Brett took his other hand to travel down Ryouma's body.  _Please, please stop. I just want to bite his fingers off._  "Makes me just want to-"

"Garth! Brett! King Garon and Prince Marx are coming!" Kirk announced in a hushed breath. Ryouma swelled with relief, but also froze at the sound of the second name. Marx. His best friend, the one he had the most in common with...

Until he betrayed Ryouma.

Hearing those two names filled Ryouma with rage and disgust, but he was glad that Garth and Brett's advancements could come to an end; he wasn't sure how long he could take it until hurting one of them.

"What the..." Brett drifted off, following Garth's example by retreating his hands. "I didn't even notice he left. He better not have told on us."

Garth sighed. "Just leave the cell and pretend like everything's normal." He let go of Ryouma's head, letting it fall lifelessly on the ground (much to Ryouma's annoyance; now his headache spiked.)

Unable to sit up, Ryouma stared at the ceiling, waiting for whatever remarks Garon and his son would make.

"Sit him up," Garon commanded. "And be careful. I don't want his lungs punctured." Brett and Garth replied with a lazy "yes, sir" as they did what they were told, lifting Ryouma so he could sit upright against the cell wall. 

Garth and Brett retreated to the entrance of the cell, joining Kirk. Garon strode in first, with his axe in hand; it triggered a mix feeling of anxiety and defiance within Ryouma. Marx soon came in after, sporting a regretful look, boosting Ryouma's annoyance even more. He wouldn't fall for that phony face. 

"How are you enjoying your stay in Nohr?" Garon mocked, like it was a sick joke to him. Ryouma couldn't measure how tired he was of Garon's insults. Marx kept his head low, with a tense posture. "Well, I suppose you couldn't, not with your foolish father dead. "Ryouma took a sharp intake of breath, but winced at the pain it caused. 

"I'll never submit to you... Traitorous wretch..."

Garon released a menacing laugh, finding Ryouma's defiance amusing. Ryouma felt another pang of fear, but he didn't regret his outburst. He meant what he said. 

"Did I make it sound like you had a choice, Hoshidan mongrel?" Marx winced at his father's words; his father neglected to tell him of his plans for Ryouma, so everything was new to him. He finally lifted his head to examine Ryouma, giving him a good look after such a long time of not seeing him.

Ryouma... Marx's best friend. Or former best friend, rather, especially after all that had happened. There was no way they could return to how they were before. It saddened Marx to no end; Hoshido and Nohr were such close allies, and Marx and Ryouma were inseparable companion. When his father would take him to visit Hoshido, back when he seemed sane, Marx and Ryouma would run off together somewhere, daydreaming about their futures, expressing their delight over swordplay, speaking of their younger siblings... They shared everything with each other. 

But his father had to commit this atrocious act of murder, had to sever their bonds, had to ruin everything. He loved his father to no end, but he was struck with the worse case of confusion...

That was all he could be. Confused.

_Hurt._

Ryouma's harsh glare of hatred, and inferno of rage burning within his eyes, startled Marx out of his musings. He couldn't bear to look at Ryouma now.

Garon continued speaking after gazing at Ryouma as well, a vicious grin attached to his face. "You will no longer be a Hoshidan prince. You... Are my son now. And you, as my child, will serve Nohr for as long as you live. Do I make myself clear?"

Ryouma started against his shackles. "You-!"

In the blink of an eye, Garon swung his axe so it rested right against Ryouma's neck, forcing a violent flinch out of him. Ryouma closed his eyes, neck stiff with tension, as Garon continued.

"Do I make myself clear?" Garon annunciated slowly, leaving no temptation for retorts from Ryouma. He swallowed and let out a shaky breath, mindful of his ribs this time. There was no avoiding this, he thought, and it took all of his willpower to force down his pride. His pride as his father's son, as a warrior...

As a Hoshidan prince.

He grimaced and gave the slightest nod. Marx clenched his fist, out of view from everyone. Garon grunted in contentment at Ryouma's response, took back his axe, and turned to Marx. 

"Marx." 

"Yes, father?" he replied, expertly hiding his displeasure.

"Show Ryouma where he will be staying tonight. Make sure he is still restrained there." Marx nodded, awkwardly moving to Ryouma's side and unlocking his shackles. Ryouma was still as stiff as before, glaring at Garon with ferocity. Marx then wrapped his arm around Ryouma's shoulder, and hoisted him up carefully. Ryouma, feeling so much disgust at that moment, was forced to lean on Marx, unable to walk properly with his broken leg.

As the three of them left the dungeons, Ryouma could only consider his situation once more. If he still had his sword, he would consider ending his life; the only thing that would stop him from doing that was the fact that he would be leaving his family and kingdom behind.

Not like he could go back anyway. 

Hw would be made a Nohrian prince (in title, but never in spirit), Garon's _son,_ and would be forced to attack Hoshido if Garon were to make him fight. Probably the only reason why he decided to take me, Ryouma thought. 

It was a sickening situation. He wouldn't be able to stand for himself as Garon would do whatever he wished to him. Ryouma's vision was darkening as they walked up the dungeon's stairs, his despair clouding all of his senses. Garon had the power to change him into whatever he wished. Everything Hoshidan about him would be forced out of him. One way or another.

With Ryouma's despair taking over his body, he sagged to the steps of the stairway, ignoring Marx's worry.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! next chapter will be the kick start of ryoumas life in nohr.


	3. Lifetaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was hoping this chapter would come out earlier this week, but oh well. its here. and i think the chapters are just gonna get longer as they progress. enjoy! this chapter kind of hurts near the end.

Unlike earlier in the dungeon, Ryouma woke up lying on a soft surface, presumably a bed, something warm covering him. He opened his eyes slowly, anxious to see what situation he was in now. In his peripheral vision, he could spot Marx sitting in a chair at his side. Ryouma turned his head and glared at him, too exhausted to do anything else.

"I see you're awake," Marx spoke, his tone seemingly dismissing Ryouma's scornful look. "The maids came while you were unconscious to clean and dress your wounds, as you've probably noticed."

Ryouma hadn't. Marx hesitated at Ryouma's lack of an answer, before continuing.

"Father... King Garon seeks an audience with you later. In about two hours." An awkward silence hung in the air. Ryouma turned his head away, staring at the ceiling instead. Marx distracted himself by staring at his own hands in his lap.

"Is that all?" Ryouma finally answered, grimacing at the hoarseness of his voice. 

"Ah... Yes. I-If you want, I can bring you some water-"

"I don't want any," Ryouma lied. In truth, his throat felt like the desert. But as irrational as it was, Ryouma would have to drink eventually, even if it was Nohrian water that they could drug with something. He simply couldn't accept water from a traitor like Marx.

"... I understand. I will leave you to rest," Marx stated, not looking at Ryouma when he exited the room.

After the door clicked shut, Ryouma pulled off the covers of the bed with his arm, still unable to sit up. His chest and leg were wrapped securely in bandages, and he was only wearing what Ryouma falsely recognized as small, somewhat tight shorts. Pulling the covers back up to shield his bare skin against the chilling air of the room, Ryouma took this time to assess his surroundings; there was the bed he was laying on (an elevated one, something that confused Ryouma, who had been sleeping on futons his whole life, greatly), a wooden dresser in a corner, a sofa in an opposite corner, and a mirror in between them, facing the bed. To Ryouma's surprise, the room was decently decorated. He was certain Garon would make him sleep in the equivalent of a maid's quarters, inwardly groaning at the thought of him. Whatever Garon wanted with him, Ryouma thought, he simply didn't have the energy for. All Ryouma wanted was sleep.

To wake up in Hoshido, and dismiss this as nothing more than a bad nightmare.

~

Marx stood outside of Ryouma's room, mind amiss in thoughts. He was relieved Ryouma's wounds had been treated, but he knew it was only because Garon wanted Ryouma healed as soon as possible for him to serve him. He had been so furious with his father. All Marx wanted to do was scream at Garon, demand why he had to ruin Hoshido, why he had to _murder their king._

Everything seemed fine between the two countries. But Marx, only thirteen, still young and budding, could never understand a political situation so heavy that it induced the murder of someone as important as Sumeragi, now could he. 

But growing up in Castle Krackenburg didn't allow for someone of Marx's age to enjoy their childhood.

Marx sighed, and forced himself away from Ryouma's room. His heart ached every time he thought of him and their tarnished friendship; he could safely say that Ryouma was his only friend, aside from his siblings. Krackenburg was full of devious spies, murderous servants, and corrupt concubines. Nowhere was safe. And now, because of his father's behavior, Marx lost another close one. Garon, who used to be so loving and considerate, snatched one of Marx's greatest joys from him.

Well, it was enough lamenting for him, he supposed bitterly. He should probably tell Camilla and Leon that Ryouma had awoken.

~

"Ryouma," Sumeragi voiced, effectively blocking Ryouma's path in one of the many hallways of Castle Shirasagi. He was sporting a stern expression, something that Ryouma had almost never seen directed so heavily unto him.

"Yes, father?" he answered, anticipating his father's reply.

"...Your mother would like to speak with you." He turned and walked away without another word or glance, tension clouding the air.

After a few minutes, Ryouma reached Mikoto's room, hesitantly announcing himself before sliding the door open. All of his siblings awaited him, silent and not bearing any usual smiles for him. 

But where was Takumi?

"You called for me, Mother?" Ryouma started, putting off his worry. From his knowledge, he hadn't done anything wrong.

"Yes..." Mikoto sighed, cradling a baby Sakura in her arms. "Ryouma... I'm very disappointed in you..." Her voice wavered as tears glossed her eyes. 

"Mother? Please, tell me what I have done!" Hurt by her tears, Ryouma, beyond confusion, could only bow low in apology.

"Takumi... My sweet son was taken by the Nohrians... All because of you." Ryouma flashed his head upward, mind trying to process what his mother was telling him. But he, despite not knowing anything of this, could only feel shame as Mikoto refused to look at him, Sakura wailing in her arms, Hinoka glaring at him with hatred, and Azura gazing at him with silent disgust. They hated him, Ryouma thought, and he didn't know what he did.

"What... What have I done..."

"Don't play the fool. You know what you've done," Mikoto spat, finally narrowing her eyes at him. "Nohr is our enemy. We have been at war with them. And you conspired with them to give up your only brother... How could you?"

"What are you speaking of, Mother?!" Ryouma questioned, immediately regretting his annoyed tone. He could see how much his mother was in anguish, but couldn't help the irritation he was feeling at the situation. All of this was nonsense; Ryouma would never give away Takumi like some object! "Nohr is our ally! They, and definitely I, would never do such a thing!"

"To them, they are your allies. You have shown me how much you truly care about your own family," she whispered, tears of grief falling from her eyes for her lost son. 

Hinoka, who stayed silent and fuming through this whole ordeal, finally spoke up.

"Mother and Father have decided they're going to exchange you for him. You are a disgrace to us, trading our own brother. And for what?! Family is what we treasure most!"

Before Ryouma could reply, the door slammed open, his father towering over him with Raijinto in hand. Ryouma was at a loss for words.

"Father... This is-"

Sumeragi raised Raijinto's scabbard, knocking Ryouma out in a flash.

~

Ryouma awoke violently, throwing the covers off him, too weak to sit up with his broken ribs. Sweat made his hair stick to his face, dampening his bandages. He was breathing heavily, brushing his wet hair out of his face, and felt a familiar wetness near his eyes. Ryouma sighed. He was tired of crying. To top it off, his body felt as if it was on fire, his headache returned, and his appetite vanished. The need for water spiked, regretting Marx's offer despite his pride.  _Had they done something to me while I was asleep?_

He used this time, lying in bed, to let his mind wander and ponder over his dream. Perhaps it was a simple nightmare, or maybe it was the pain in his heart. Ryouma couldn't express in words how much he wanted to return to Hoshido,  _with his father,_ but he was also immensely glad that it was him in this situation, and not one of his younger siblings. Had Hinoka, Azura, Kamui, Takumi, or Sakura been kidnapped instead, Ryouma surely would've lost it, charging into Nohr by himself even if it got him killed. There was nothing he wouldn't do for his beloved brother and sisters.

Ryouma wiped those annoying tears of his away, focusing on the present. How long had he been asleep? How long until he would have to see Garon and Marx once more? Face his father's killer again?

He supposed he could sleep again and hope for better dreams. The maids would wake him up.

~

"Camilla, Leon," Marx announced, entering her room after speaking with his father about trivial matters. Leon often sought her company as he read his books, not wanting to admit that he didn't like to be alone in his own room.

"Hello, brother. What brings you here?" Leon spared him a glance before reluctantly setting his book down.

Camilla proceeded straight to the point. "Leon, Marx and I have been discussing something for a few days now. It's time we should tell you." Camilla looked to Marx, beckoning him to proceed.

Marx nodded. "We have been allies with Nohr for quite a while now, as you know." Leon replied with an "mhm". "But, for whatever reason," Marx sighed, "Father... Betrayed that trust."

"He killed King Sumeragi of Hoshido," Camilla finished bluntly. 

A long pause followed.

"... Why?" Was all Leon could say. There was an undertone of sadness in the statement, of confusion and anger, that made something in Marx break. 

"Leon..." Marx was taken aback. "I don't know why Father is acting this way at all. And to make it worse... He kidnapped the high prince of Hoshido."

"Is he here with us now?" Leon inquired. He was taking the information surprisingly well, Marx thought. Much to well for an eight year-old.

"Yes. He's resting right now in one of our empty rooms. Camilla knows where he is. And you'll be able to see him when we meet Father later."

Leon nodded, quite reluctant to meet Garon after hearing this news. "I feel bad for him, taken away from his family like this. I want to know what Father means by his actions."

"As do I, Leon. Ryouma and I used to be best friends... To have things change like this in such an inhumane manner..."

Camilla frowned. "Marx-"

"I know, sister. But unlike Father, I can't simply let go of the past."

The silence that shortly followed was agonizing. None of the three siblings wanted to discuss anything to do with Ryouma, the situation filling them with enough dread already. Marx and Camilla expected Leon's tame reaction, but it wasn't something they _wanted_ to expect.

Camilla didn't look Marx in they eye when she finally spoke once more, not wanting to see the pain in her brother's eyes. "You should wake him. He needs to be ready in an hour, right?"

"...Yes."

~

Marx meandered through the gigantic castle to Ryouma's quarters, dreading his next encounter with him. It definitely won't be enjoyable, Marx thought, to prepare their captive to meet with his father's murderer. As he finally reached Ryouma's room, in which he realized that it wasn't too far from the throne room, he knocked on the door softly, slowly opening it. Marx's calm stature was shaken immediately as he laid his eyes upon the scene in front of him. Ryouma was trapped in a frightful, violent nightmare, thrashing about in his bed, tears streaming from his tightly shut eyes as he was seemingly grasping for something unknown. The sheets were strewn around the foot of the bed.

Marx wasted no time in hurrying to Ryouma's side, despite his past feelings towards doing such a thing. He jostled him by his shoulders, careful not to damage ribs any further. Ryouma immediately latched his hand onto Marx's with a death grip.

"Please, Mother... Don't leave me like Father..." Ryouma sobbed, holding Marx's hand even closer to him. "No..."

Marx would've laughed bitterly if he had described this scene as just "sad" or "unfortunate". It was beyond heartbreaking. Marx, who had been steeled throughout his short life, felt his own tears prickling at his eyes. This, everything that had happened to Ryouma, had been his fault.  _No, it's Father's._   _I have done nothing to cause this._  

But to Ryouma, was Marx's position in the matter truly significant? People thought collectively, not individually. All of Nohr had betrayed Ryouma and Hoshido, not just Garon, as far as Ryouma was concerned. There wasn't a single speck of blame Marx could place on Ryouma.

But that was enough musing for Marx. There was a task at hand.

"Ryouma, Ryouma," Marx chanted, "Wake up. Please!" 

Now that Marx focused himself on Ryouma's harsh grip, he could feel the abnormal heat coming from it. Marx pressed the back of his hand to Ryouma's forehead, grimly realizing Ryouma's predicament.

He was having a fever dream.

It was truly no wonder why he had caught it; after all, he had been thrown into a brand new environment, so different from Hoshido's, in much less than ideal conditions. But there lied the problem. Nohr had limited resources, and with limited resources came limited medicine. Not to mention the harsh climate, decay, mold, bacteria...

With a fever as severe as this, Ryouma could die soon if he wasn't treated.

Even while grasping Marx's hand like a lifeline, he was using his other hand to simultaneously push him away. Marx climbed onto the bed and pinned him down, hand finally freed from Ryouma's after much struggling. Ryouma was gradually calming down, no longer torn between reaching for and fighting against Marx. After a minute or so, Ryouma's breathing evened out and he opened his eyes at last, mind heavily fogged from the dream and fever. Marx wasn't sure Ryouma was fully conscious yet, so he wrapped his arms gently around Ryouma, careful to not put any weight on his chest. He released quiet shushes of reassurance as Ryouma weeped once more. Marx would feel very sick about this later, he was positive. Pretending like nothing was broken between them as he coddled Ryouma in such a vulnerable state, like he hadn't essentially taken his life away from him.

"Hush, it's okay, it's okay..." Marx cooed, uttering the biggest falsehoods that gave him a sick feeling in his gut. It was the only thing he knew to say in this kind of situation, only used for when Leon had a nightmare or Camilla's devil of a mother had beaten her. Things weren't okay, and Marx had an incredible urge to run away from what he was doing. It wasn't that he didn't want to help Ryouma, because he did, but it was the futileness and irony of the situation; to have someone Ryouma hated with a passion now coddling him, the polar opposite of what Garon had done to Sumeragi. 

Ryouma tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, shuddering from his nightmare and and not fully realizing who exactly he was touching. Marx just wanted Ryouma to wake up so he could get off of him, so the disgust and guilt could stop chewing at him. His wish was granted as Ryouma finally came back to his senses and retreated his hand, Marx easing off the bed at the same time. If only they were still friends, then the situation wouldn't be so awkward. As soon as Ryouma looked at him, Marx spoke up.

"You were having a nightmare," Marx explained, sounding like an excuse. "And you are also running a very bad fever. It would do you good to accept some water now."

Shame was plastered all over Ryouma's face, not responding to Marx's explanation. "You saw me, didn't you..." His words were laced with disgust.

"Yes," Marx replied calmly, expertly keeping his feelings and thoughts out of his words. "I simply woke you up. I didn't want your wounds to be irritated." Ryouma covered his face with his hand. Why ever would Marx hope that Ryouma didn't realize what had happened? Fortune or luck, those imaginary thing, didn't run in the family.

"I will bring you water and crutches. We need to meet Father very soon." Ryouma glared at him silently, throat too dry to make any sound. Marx sighed inwardly, and opened a closet near the dresser. The maids had followed his instructions, leaving a pair of crutches awaiting there. He set them against the wall right next to Ryouma's bed, and grabbed the water pitcher and glass sitting on the dresser. As he poured the water, the silence made Marx want to throw it on the floor. 

"Here." Ryouma took it wordlessly, and drank it as eagerly as a fish returning to water.

"...Thanks," he muttered as begrudgingly as he possibly could. He supposed he could say thanks; Marx had given him something Ryouma was severely aching for, after all. 

"No matter. I'll help you out of bed," Marx offered when he noticed Ryouma moving his legs dubiously.

"I don't need your help," he snapped, swinging his legs off the bed. Obviously expecting his legs to touch the floor like coming out of a futon, Ryouma lost his balance, sliding off the bed. Marx gasped in surprise, afraid that Ryouma had stressed his ribs and leg even more, before stepping forward and catching him. It was a little frightening to feel how light Ryouma had become, but now wasn't the time to focus on that. Holding Ryouma, who was as stiff as a board against him with one arm, reached for the pair of crutches he had set against the wall earlier. Ryouma snatched them away from him wordlessly.

"Do not touch me again, vile traitor. I already said I didn't need your help." Marx could feel his heart ache at the harsh statement. He wanted to argue that Ryouma's wish was irrational, that he would've been more hurt had Marx not caught him, but he said nothing of the sort. Instead, he complied to Ryouma's wish.

"... Very well then. The maids brought clothes for you," Marx remarked, bringing the simple white dress shirt, black vest, and trousers to the bed. He left a pair of brown boots near the bed, and without another word, left the room, closing the door with a sigh he hadn't realized he had been holding. Even though Ryouma had a fever, he wouldn't keep his father waiting by arguing with Ryouma.

Left alone, Ryouma proceeded to lift himself back onto the bed, reaching for the shirt first. _It should be easy to put this on._ As loathe as he was to admit it, he had learned much from Marx the way of Nohrian clothing when he and Garon took extra long visits to Hoshido. The memories of him and Marx teaching each other things brought Ryouma great rage, but also sadness. It was the  _perfect_ time for him to feel grief; running a high fever, being physically vulnerable, and trapped in a traitorous country. 

Ryouma wanted, more than anything else, to go back to the old days.

~

"Marx," Leon voiced with Camilla behind him, quaking Marx from his thoughts. "We have good news that will hopefully brighten your day."

"What is it, Leon?" Marx was surprised; when was the last time he had heard good news?

"Elise will be living with us from now on!"

Marx wanted to beam with joy at the idea. Their baby sister, Elise, lived in a small cottage a little ways from the castle with her wet nurse, Cassita. He had only been able to see her just a couple of times, and now he would see her everyday. But Castle Krackenburg was not a safe place for a three, turning four year-old princess. Adversaries lied everywhere; concubines, servants, even their own siblings that worked for their devious mothers.

But Marx saw how happy Leon was at the news, and while it wasn't ideal for Elise to live with them, he didn't want to crush Leon's joy.

"That is very good news," Marx replied, feigning a happy expression. He glanced at Camilla, sharing hidden looks of concern and disapproval in their eyes. "You're right, Leon. I'm very happy to have her living with us."

"I knew it!" Marx and Camilla could only smile bittersweetly at Leon's behavior.

"How did you find out?" Marx asked,

"Camilla and I actually saw Cassita preparing a room for Elise when we were walking here. That's when she told us."

"I see." The information filled Marx with dread, but he wanted to avoid it as much as possible. He turned to Camilla. "You two must be curious about what Father wants too, right?"

"Yes," Camilla answered. "I can't remember the last time he wanted to speak with us so urgently. I can only assume it has to do with the Hoshidan prince..." She trailed off, her eye that wasn't covered by her hair gazing at the door to Ryouma's room, an unreadable expression resting on her face.

As if on cue, the door opened, revealing Ryouma clad in Nohrian clothing and holding crutches, a dead look in his eyes. He was breathing heavily, most likely extra exhausted from his ailment. Marx felt a strong pang of pity and regret in his heart at the sight.

"... Shall we be off, then?" Marx offered, dreading what was to come with Garon. Camilla and Leon replied with a "yes", while Ryouma said nothing as usual. As Marx led the way to the throne room, a silence as heavy as stone weighed upon them, save for their footsteps and the creaking of the crutches. He wanted to tell Ryouma, so badly, that he truly did not know what was in store for them all, but words could not sway a person's mind.

Marx grit his teeth.  _Only actions can._

Despite the short distance, it seemed like forever until they finally reached the throne room. Marx opened the door, a pit of nervousness pooling in his stomach. He was anxious for Ryouma, as much as he didn't want to be. The conflicting feelings he felt when it came to Ryouma gave him a headache.

"Father, we've come," he announced. Garon was sitting upon his throne, cheek leaning against his gauntleted fist. He set his eyes upon Ryouma with a burning look of evil, cruel amusement. It sent chills through Ryouma, something he was tired of feeling. Garon nodded in response, his eyes not leaving his prey.

"Good. I have something very important to ask your new brother, Marx." Once more, the familiar anger. It drove Ryouma crazy, not being able to do anything about it. He would never be Marx's brother, or any of his siblings' brother for that matter. He, despite probably never going to be able to see them again, would never give up on his siblings in Hoshido. The thoughts made him light headed, and he leaned of his crutches for support.

"The night in Cyrkensia must still be very fresh in your mind, am I correct?" Ryouma narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw, offering no response. "I retrieved something you may recognize." He couldn't hid the amusement in his voice as he gestured his hand to the side. A servant standing next to a door on the far side of the room bowed, and opened the door. Another servants walked in, a big, long bundle of cloth in their hands. They handed it to Garon, who finally stepped off his throne. He paced towards Ryouma, unbundling the cloth with surprising dexterity. Marx, Camilla, and Leon watched silently.

Ryouma gasped violently when he saw what it was, but he knew he shouldn't have been surprised. Of course Garon wouldn't leave something as important as _this_ behind. 

It was Raijinto. Completely dull and lifeless, just as it had been on that fateful night.

"Thief... Stealing it as if it were nothing, just like my father's life..." Ryouma's words dripped with venom.

"It won't be nothing very soon. Tell me, boy, how do you awaken this  _precious_ sword of your family's?" Was Garon joking?

"You honestly expect me to tell you? Of course not!"

"I will give you another chance," Garon answered, as if expecting Ryouma's answer. Even so, he grew frustrated. "How do you awaken this blade?"

"Like I've already said, I won't tell you."

"You had better show some respect for your new father."

Something in Ryouma erupted. "You will never be my father," Ryouma growled, shaking. "Never... I would die a thousand deaths before ever becoming your son! I won't do it! I won't tell you!"

Suddenly, Garon roared, an echo waving through the hollow room, so strong it felt like it shook the floor. "You will regret your decision, foolish boy." Ryouma almost regretted his defiance, but he would never give up the secret of Raijinto. Garon summoned his usual axe out of thin air, grasping it with his hand. "Marx, restrain him."

"Father..."

"Did I stutter? Do it, now!" Marx grunted, hesitated, before stepping in front of Ryouma, holding him by his shoulders. He felt Ryouma weakly struggling and tensing in his firm yet painless hold. "I'll teach this Hoshidan dog what it means to defy me."

A familiar feeling bubbled inside Marx, something he had been feeling all day. His father was becoming more and more brutal by the day, and Marx would be caught as his prime witness. It seemed like it happened so suddenly, the change in his father. For the past few months, Garon had become incredibly violent, often having tantrums and not speaking with his children unless it benefited him. Even when Katerina was still alive, Garon still slept with countless concubines, producing countless half siblings for Marx. And after she died, the concubines all jumped for power, murdering each other and using their own children to murder others. And throughout all this, Garon didn't care. Marx felt his innocence and kindness fade away by the day as these horrible events continued in Krackenburg. And to put the cherry on top of all this, Garon ruined the only friendship Marx had by assassinating Ryouma's father. Snatched the light away from Marx's life, and crushed it under his heel. Marx only had Leon and Camilla. Everyone else couldn't be trusted. And now Ryouma, who he cared for immensely, hated him.

What horrible thing would Garon do now?

Marx felt himself snap as Garon proceeded to move behind Ryouma. Everything in Marx's life, all the horrible, atrocious things piled on top of him and clouded the light. Marx cried openly now, without a sound but the tears were like waterfalls. 

"I'm so sorry, Ryouma..." Marx whispered, his weak voice barely registering against Ryouma's ear. Marx hung his head on Ryouma's shoulders, body wracking with silent sobs. It didn't matter. The apology fell on deaf ears. But no matter what Garon would do, he wanted Ryouma to hear it. Even if Ryouma wanted to crush those very words.

It wasn't fair.

Camilla and Leon stood by with anxious expressions as Garon raised his axe, the weight of it whipping through the air.

Marx truly wondered if Ryouma was going to die, even after all this trouble.

"I gave you chances to answer my demand. I warned you. And you disobeyed me. A severe punishment is the only way to discipline dogs like you."

A swing of his axe was all it took.

Ryouma didn't feel anything, excepts Marxs' tight grip. Looking forward, he saw Marx's face plastered with horror as he stared at Ryouma, the tears still falling free. Ryouma only registered those as fake.

Ryouma looked to the right, and saw Marx's siblings with the same expressions.

And finally, he looked down.

His knees felt weak as they buckled. Everything was weak. His heart, mind, body, soul. 

It was all tarnished.

His pride, his  _meaning_ as the first prince of Hoshido, lied on the ground, severed from him.

His hair. Long, thick locks, pooling around his feet. Taken away from him. 

He could feel himself sinking. Was it real life, or was it in his mind? Ryouma did not know. He couldn't register Marx stumbling to catch him with arms weak from emotion once more, for the third time since Ryouma had been in Nohr.

It was only nothingness. That was all he could feel. A Hoshidan prince with short hair was nothing. Cutting one's hair short was like throwing oneself on the streets and disposing of one's life.

It didn't matter now. Garon obliterated everything Hoshidan from him. Every single piece within him. His spirit had vanished a long time ago.

The weight of everything going through Ryouma caused his vision to fade. It suited his existence, now that the last thing he could take pride in as a Hoshidan was  _gone._ For Ryouma, the high prince of Hoshido, without his hair, was no one. Nothing.

He could say he was Nohrian now, he thought bitterly. _It didn't matter anymore._

A weak sob escaped him. Then a strong one. Followed by a wail. A scream. 

Then, nothing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor ryouma... why am i putting my baby through such suffering? hope you enjoyed this chapter. next chapter ryouma and the nohr sibs are gonna actually start (or try) interacting with each other. 
> 
> next update: monday or tuesday! stay tuned!


	4. Savage Blow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eep im sorry this is three days late! perhaps i should stop putting update dates, even though i thought id be able to keep up with them...
> 
> this chapter will be cut between hoshidos perspective and nohrs perspective (btw, the hoshidan pov will take place one day before nohrs.)
> 
> also i realize that in the game sumeragi was killed in cheve, but i wanted to make it cyrkensia for dramatic reasons. later on cyrkensia will be a key location, and i think it fits since its a neutral place in the fates world. i also know that kaze was in cheve too, but i decided not to make him as relevant as he shouldve been because i read a fanfic where he was helping ryouma escape, and i didnt want to steal the idea. but kaze (and saizo actually) will still have a place in the incident.
> 
> garon still has his normal skin color. im not putting anankos or valla in this story, and instead im doing something else. that way, he looks something like a much more handsome zephiel from binding blade.
> 
> last thing! i was originally not planning on adding kamui in this story, but i decided to add them because of a comment i got. kamui can add to the angst, so it isnt a bad thing that they suggested it heheh.

If there hadn't been Nohrian wyverns flying about, no one would've noticed that the Hoshidan king had been killed, or that his son was on the run afterwards. Cyrkensia was such a gigantic city that even an event as disastrous as that would go unnoticed by the common people. There were so many alleyways and tall buildings that it made the city a labyrinth. 

For the Hoshidans, it made searching for their high prince and king all the more difficult.

Their ninja and samurai were scattered everywhere, inspecting every nook and cranny for a single sign of Sumeragi or Ryouma. It would take hours to complete their inspection of the city. It had commenced when they heard the wyverns flying about, and when Garon, Sumeragi, and Ryouma had mysteriously disappeared from the theatre.

That was about two hours ago, and even with their highly skilled royal guard, they still haven't found them.

It shouldn't have taken them this long.

And to make matters more suspicious, it seemed as if the Nohrians had simply vanished. The wyverns knights flew away, and the guards surrounding the castle had left as well. 

"Saizo, anything?" Suzukaze asked, appearing out of thin air in the center of the city. Suzukaze and his twin brother, Saizo, were tasked to be the leaders of the search. They hailed from a prodigious ninja clan in Igasato that had served the royal family for generations. Even at the tender age of fourteen, they were already exemplary ninja and exceeded to serve as the captains of the ninja force.

Saizo appeared in a puff of smoke a second after Suzukaze announced his name, shaking his head in reply. "I've searched the east and south wings of the city. All that is left are the west wing and the theatre, correct?"

"Yes. If anything, they have to be there-"

"Kaze, Saizo! I've found King Sumeragi!" A samurai wailed, stumbling over his feet as he rushed up to them. His face was anything but relieved, the sight making Kaze and Saizo anticipate the worst. "He's... He-"

"Lead us to him. Now, Hinata," Saizo snapped, effectively cutting him off. Hinata hesitantly nodded his head, before a ninja appeared as well.

"This way, sir." The ninja jumped on to a roof of a building before dashing off of it, landing on the next buildings to the west with ease. Saizo and his twin followed without another moment's waste, leaving Hinata alone, but Suzukaze called out to him before he was out of earshot.

"Search the theatre for Lord Ryouma!" Hinata bowed, scrambling to follow his command.

The mood was tense as Suzukaze and Saizo followed the ninja. They couldn't be fearful of what was in store for them; as ninja, they were trained for the worst. However, it angered Saizo greatly that his liege still hadn't been found.

After a minute or so, the guide ninja leaped off a certain building, landing in a long alleyway. When the twins followed his lead, they were forced to gaze upon their king's corpse. Sumeragi lied in the same spot as where he had died, blood pooling around him and arrows still engraved in him like needles in a pincushion. Saizo was first to come close to him, Suzukaze too stricken with surprise. Saizo glared at his twin.

"Kaze. Focus," he snarled. Suzukaze frowned.

"... Right. I'm sorry."

"You're too softhearted for our job sometimes. Take a look at this," Saizo commanded, "It's despicable."

Saizo was fuming, Suzukaze could tell. He may have seemed calm, but he knew that deep down Saizo was ready to murder anyone he saw in cold blood. Either way, he came closer to the corpse, looking for what Saizo was focusing on.

"I don't know what you speak of, Saizo..."

"Kaze!" he growled. "Can't you see? These are Nohrian arrows." Suzukaze sucked in a sharp intake of breath. "... If they wanted to murder our king, they should've been more discreet," Saizo muttered, poison and promised vengeance dripping from his words.

"This is unbelievable..." Suzukaze whispered. "This couldn't be by King Garon's orders. Perhaps it was a Nohrian rebel..."

"Think about it, Kaze. Why did Garon leave the same time as His Highness? And despite His Highness and Garon leaving with no guards accompanying him, Nohrian wyvern knights were still flying around. If it was a mere rebel, then they wouldn't attract the attention of King Garon and his soldiers. It was organized by him."

"... I am loathe to admit it, and as unbelievable as it sounds, knowing that King Garon and His Highness have been close friends for a very long time, I will trust you, Saizo. We must relay this information to Lord Yukimura and continue our search for Lord Ryouma. I've already sent Hinata to search the theatre."

Saizo nodded, and turned to the guide ninja. "Take His Higness's body to our caravans. We will bring him back to Hoshido for proof of what has happened here." The ninja bowed, and the two twins disappeared in a flash of smoke, their next task to deliver their findings to Yukimura.

~

Garon offered no words to his children as his axe vanished, a look of accomplishment on his face. Marx, despite feeling overwhelming guilt, also felt an overwhelming anger boil within him. He wanted to strike at his father, demand  _why he was acting the way he was_ , why he would commit such an atrocious act to Ryouma. Marx knew the importance of what Ryouma had lost just a moment ago; in one of the Nohr family's visits to Hoshido, he had taught Marx the significance of hair, especially for someone of royal or noble status...

~

Half a year ago, Castle Shirasagi was bustling with life and activity as everyone got ready for an upcoming banquet. It was for the tenth anniversary of Sumeragi's coronation, and Garon's family, along with nobles that had made friends with the Hoshidan court, were invited. 

Marx was currently residing in Ryouma's quarters, adjusting his own clothes as he waited for Ryouma's return. He had told Marx that the maids were going to wash his hair, but Marx hand't realized it would take this long. The banquet was starting in an hour, and Ryouma had already been gone for almost two!

Marx sighed, and set himself down on one of Ryouma's many pillows. Maybe something had gone wrong? This was the first time Marx had been put in this kind of situation, at least in Hoshido, so he was clueless. Perhaps Camilla and Leon knew, but he wouldn't go searching for them. While he was certain that they were with Hinoka and Takumi respectively, Castle Shirasagi was so enormous that Marx was sure he would get lost. The size of the castle was similar to Krackenburg's, but he wouldn't take a chance with Hoshidan architecture.

Fortunately, the shoji doors slid open, revealing an apologetic Ryouma and unfazed maids. Ryouma dismissed them, and they bowed, sliding the door closed.  

"Hello, Marx. I'm sorry for the wait," Ryouma said, smoothing out his dark red kimono as he sat next to Marx, a clumsy smile on his face.

"It's fine," he replied bashfully. He looked to Ryouma's mane of hair, trying to figure what exactly caused the maids to take so long. His hair was definitely washed, as it was extra swishy whenever Ryouma moved, and it smelled of the Hoshidan products they used. But there wasn't a detail that heavily separated itself from anything else...

"If I may be so bold to ask," Marx started, catching Ryouma's attention. "In Nohr, it is usually the women that have very long hair. Even when they get it treated, it only takes a long time because they get it styled afterwards." Ryouma smiled and nodded with understanding, like he knew Marx was wondering about his hair for a long time. "It seems like hair is a very important subject to males in Hoshido. I was... Wondering why that was." Marx was nervous about asking such a question; he was afraid he would accidentally offend Ryouma.

To Marx's relief, Ryouma seemed happy to educate him. "Well, it's only important to people of high status. Put simply, it's our way of telling us apart from everyone else. But there's much more to it than that." Ryouma's face became sharp and critical, his eyes dead set and serious. Perhaps Marx really shouldn't have asked, but he tried to brush away the worry as much as he could. "Unlike the noble women of Hoshido, this hair is our pride. For the past kings of Hoshido, my father, Takumi, and myself, it represents our very being. I can't put it into words just how important it is to us. If one of us were to have it cut..." Ryouma paused, making Marx nervous. "... I can't imagine. It would be like destroying one's spirit and life. We wouldn't be able to call ourselves royalty anymore, for starters." Marx was taken aback. Despite not knowing before, he still felt bad for impatiently wondering why Ryouma was gone for such a long time. "We would be as low as dirt, and there would be nothing we could do to regain our honor and pride."

"I had no idea..." was the only thing Marx could say.

"One time, my father told me a story about one of my ancestors, a previous king of Hoshido. His sister was about to be kidnapped by quite a large group of bandits, and he himself was being restrained by one of them. But it was by his hair," Ryouma told. Marx could see where this was going. "He had two choices; to cut his own hair with his sword and save his sister by killing the rest of the bandits, or to save his hair and let his sister be taken away. He took the second option." 

"Incredible..." Marx voiced. Ryouma nodded.

"My father never really told me how he felt about the story, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I hold my sisters in a very high regard... And with a sword like Raijinto," Ryouma's eyes lit up at the mention of his family's heirloom, excitement so contagious it made Marx smile himself, "Maybe he could've saved his hair and his sister somehow? Or perhaps Father wants me to find a different answer..."

"Perhaps it is about selflessness and sacrifice," Marx offered. Ryouma seemed to be intrigued by this idea, so he kept going. "From what you've told me, hair is an irreplaceable part of yourself. But a relative is not only that; it is an irreplaceable part of your entire family as well. That might be the sacrifice the king was contemplating, and he decided not to take it." 

Ryouma was quite surprised at Marx's explanation. He could feel pride bubble within him at Ryouma's reaction, but he tried to remain humble. "I never considered that. Now that you say it, it makes perfect sense. Even if you did say it like it was the most obvious thing in the world." Marx stuttered at his exaggeration, and Ryouma released a hearty laugh. Nonetheless, he smiled at Marx, glad that he now understood the dilemma. Marx could get high off of Ryouma's happiness; his smile and laugh graced his features perfectly, and it was just the right level of sweetness. While it was far from the first time, to see Ryouma present it at him gave Marx the utmost satisfaction. "Anyway, thank you. It's always been something I've wondered heavily about."

"... I-I'm glad I was able to help you, Ryouma," he answered, stumbling on his words a little. Marx, shy and modest, would always do that when someone praised him. It reminded Ryouma of Takumi a little, and the thought made his heart swell with affection for his best friend. 

A comfortable silence stilled between them until Ryouma perked up, grabbing a brush, comb, and hair accessories from a drawer in a nearby dresser. He sat in front of his mirror that lied to the left of it with his items in hand, and turned to Marx. "I imagine Mother is applying the finishing touches onto Father's hair, and Azura and Kamui are probably doing the same for Takumi," he started vaguely. "Would you do the honors of finishing mine?" Ryouma held out the comb to Marx, setting the brush and accessories beside him.

To allow Marx to do something like that was an honor, but Marx was skeptical. "... A-Are you sure? I mean..."

"Of course. You're like family to me!" Ryouma gazed at him with soft eyes through the mirror.

How could he deny an answer like that? Marx scooted closer to him, accepting the comb. He started off by bringing a strip of Ryouma's hair between his fingers before looking to him in the mirror. Ryouma nodded at him encouragingly, and Marx proceeded to bring the comb through his hair.

Despite the incredible thickness, it was very silky and soft, even more so than usual, Marx noted. He thought there was hardly a use for the comb as his hair was already mostly detangled, only a few snags lying here and there. Even so, it was still relaxing. He saw Ryouma's eyes eventually fall closed in contentment, and Marx could feel himself compare this to how he would comb Camilla's hair for her. Speaking of which...

"Do the women in Hoshido have an attachment to their hair as well? Earlier, you said "unlike the noble women of Hoshido"..."

Ryouma didn't answer immediately. When Marx looked at him, he noticed that he was dozing off. He couldn't help but laugh slightly at the scene, but Marx knew he had to wake up. They didn't have much time left until the banquet started, after all.

"Ryouma? Wake up," he cooed playfully, before pinching his cheeks and pulling them. Ryouma's eyes snapped open, and Marx laughed. For some strange reason, that trick always worked on him, even if it did take a few tries sometimes.

 Ryouma must have been on the last stage of consciousness, as he was not very sleepy. "Did you ask me something?"

"Yes," he replied, swapping the comb for the brush with an amused grin. "I asked if the females in Hoshido have a similar attachment to their hair."

"Oh," he sighed. "They don't, actually. The nobles usually keep their hair short, although some keep it long. There aren't any rules or customs about it for them, so they have more freedom to choose their hairstyle."

"I see." The subject of hair was very different between the two countries.  _Our customs are practically the opposite. Interesting!_

"In Nohr, it must be the opposite, right? Considering you and Leon have short hair, while Camilla has very long hair." Marx nodded in affirmation. "I wonder how that came to be... Hmm..."

"Well..." Marx started, contemplating whether he should say what he was thinking or not. "Maybe a long time ago we actually had the same rules, but after a while we just... Wanted to be different? Just because we could?"

If it weren't for Ryouma's trembling stature, Marx would've become crestfallen. Ryouma laughed silently, finding amusement in Marx's joke. A joke Marx considered to be pretty lame, in all honesty. 

"Probably," Ryouma offered, still sporting a lazy smile. "Traditions are weird. I always wonder where they come from in the first place... Speaking of which, we really need to hurry. The banquet is about to start real soon; I can hear people scurrying outside."

"Oh," Marx stated, dropping the brush. "I'm sorry this took so long..."

"It's okay, stop worrying so much! I enjoyed it. And before we go," Ryouma picked up one of his many hair accessories. "Could you put this in for me?"

It was rather impressive in size, Marx thought, but still quite pretty; after all, it had to be a suitable size for Ryouma's hair. It was a big, red cherry blossom, with four columns of white beads dangling from the bottom. There was a clip under it, and Marx slid it into a piece of hair near the top of Ryouma's head, slightly to the right so it leaned the way it was made to.

Marx sighed as he scooted backwards to admire Ryouma. "Wow... Beautiful..." he muttered.

"Hmm?"

"Oh, n-nothing. I just hope I did a good job," Marx said. It wasn't a lie; he truly did hope that his work was suitable. 

Ryouma dismissed his worry. "Please, you did great. I'm sure Mother and Father will be impressed when they see my hair. It would be nice if you could do this for me more often if you had the chance."

"Yes!" Marx exclaimed, but shrunk within himself as Ryouma chuckled. "I-I mean-"

"Don't be so nervous, Marx! I'm glad you're excited about it too," he reassured as he reached for Marx's hand in a hold. "Come on, let's go! Everyone's waiting!"

~

It was futile to try and force the memories out of his mind; he could only let them forge more guilt and despair into him until those feelings ate him out completely. Marx couldn't bear to look at his father, standing proudly at his work with an accomplished grin. He wanted to fight him, fight his father, fight whatever was _possessing him to do this._

Marx's quaking arms were making Ryouma slip out of his hold. He had fainted, the combination of what had just happened and his high fever forcing him out of consciousness. Marx's knees were buckling under the added weight, and he felt the need to fall to the ground. He wanted to clutch on to Ryouma like he was life, like if he were to let go he would spiral into despair. But at the same time, being near Ryouma was too painful. He despised Marx now, and Marx wanted to run away from the reality that Ryouma was going to wake up, see just how short his hair had become,  _remember_   _who caused it to become so short._

Marx steadied his footing and proceeded to walk out of the throne room with Ryouma in tow. He didn't care if he wasn't dismissed; Marx would dismiss himself. Camilla and Leon seemed to follow his lead, gazes downcast as they silently followed him. On the way out, Leon grabbed the crutches that had clattered to the floor.

No one wanted to spare another glance at Garon.

When Camilla closed the door to the throne room behind them, Marx finally allowed himself a release of sound. No sobs, no wails. Just a quiet sniffle. He didn't want his siblings to see him so weak; it was imperative that he stay strong, just like he had been these past few months. But they had already seen his tears, already seen him become so frail and resolveless in front of Ryouma just moments ago. There was still so much protecting for Marx to do; his baby sister, Elise, would be living with them, and who knew what the crazy concubines would want to do with her and Ryouma. Especially now that he has caught Garon's  _special_ attention, Marx thought bitterly. 

When they reached Ryouma's room, Camilla was the one to open the door for Marx and Leon. He set Ryoma down on the bed as he took a seat in a chair beside it, Camilla and Leon seating themselves on a sofa. It wasn't until Marx noticed Leon's hesitant glances that he finally spoke, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. 

"I... I don't understand," Marx confessed. "I can't understand why Father did this. Why he's become so evil... Even after three months, I can't understand."

Camilla and Leon remained quiet. "And to think that Hoshido has to suffer for Father's actions... The loss of their king and prince. And now this," he gestured to Ryouma. "It's unforgivable. I wish I didn't have to think what I'm about to say, but... It doesn't matter what father's reasons are. You two know the horrible things he has been causing... Experienced it as well," Marx said grimly. "I wish we didn't have to go through it all, as young as we are. It pains me greatly to see those cruel things happen to you two."

Leon and Camilla didn't say anything. It seemed they were content listening to their big brother, most likely as a source of comfort. "Right now, there's practically nothing we can do about it. We can only stay strong. And I've sworn I will protect you two, no matter what," he promised, offering a genuine smile to his two siblings. "But there's more we have to do. I, and I know you two for sure, don't want Elise to be manipulated by her mother. We must shield her from the terrors of this place as best we can." Camilla and Leon nodded. "Not only Elise, but Ryouma too... He most likely will never trust us ever again, but I still want to keep him safe as well." Marx's gaze moved longingly to Ryouma, his hand twitching with the urge to reach for his now choppy, short hair. "I won't let anything else happen to him, even if he thinks it's fake..." 

A long silence followed after Marx's last statement. Every time he looked at Ryouma, the familiar sting of tears came back. Marx forced his gaze away from him, and tried to think of something to say. Dinner was soon for them, but he knew Camilla and Leon wouldn't want to stay in the room any longer. "Cassita should be in Elise's future room; perhaps you two could check on her and ask how things are going?" A shred of enthusiasm appeared within Camilla and Leon as they agreed, and Marx forced a smile as they proceeded to leave the room.

Despite Marx not wanting to look at the state of his unconscious friend, he couldn't force himself away from his side. Marx's hands became clammy with sweat as he tightly grasped them together, something he did when he was unsure of what to do otherwise. He told himself it was too painful, too agonizing to be by Ryouma's side, to think about him, to see him in such a state, but Marx found himself doing it anyway. Perhaps he couldn't find it in himself to leave Ryouma's side unless absolutely necessary; that must've been it.

Marx fidgeted with his hands, his mind swarming for anything else to focus on. Maybe he could focus on how contradictory of an individual he was when it came to Ryouma, he considered darkly.

Nothing was working for him.

He could feel his lips trembling and his throat tightening with emotion. Marx shook his head, and took deep breaths. His face was growing hot, and it became harder and harder to hold back the flood of tears waiting at his eyes until it all burst. He buried his head in his arms as he slid off the chair to the side of the bed, sobbing and wailing uncontrollably as the bed became stained with his tears; this was the second time he had broken down today, he cursed himself. Marx's figure trembled violently as he released all of his pent up feelings from the past few months. His emotion-fogged mind reached for Ryouma's hand in front of him, head still in his arms. 

It didn't matter where Marx and Ryouma's relationship stood at that moment; he  _needed_ to feel the warmth of his hand, even if it was extra hot from his fever. He longed for the comfort that it offered.

Or used to offer, rather. At that moment, Marx could only imagine the times when Ryouma used to hold his hand in his own, oozing reassurance and care from his very being.

He cried even harder at the memories.

~

Yukimura, Hoshido's finest strategist and right hand of the king, was reduced to pacing back and forth at the caravans stationed at the edge of the city. Failure didn't exist in his career, and what if, gods forbid, King Sumeragi and Prince Ryouma weren't found? What would he tell Hoshido's royal court? The people?

_Sumeragi's wife and kids?_

It was difficult to not worry, but he had to have faith in Hoshido's royal soldiers. If they could find Takumi after running away from the castle many times, then they could find Sumeragi and Ryouma.

But Cyrkensia was such a huge city...

Yukimura groaned just as Saizo and Suzukaze appeared, replacing his frustration with hope. A hope he would have to keep in check, he thought sadly.

Saizo was the first to speak, as always. "We have found Lord Sumeragi. But... He is no longer alive." Saizo grit his teeth so hard that Suzukaze could her them squeak, but he did nothing.

Shock plastered Yukimura's face, and he said nothing for quite some time. "Impossible... And what of Lord Ryouma?" He could only mutter his questions, his gaze not even meeting the twins. 

Suzukaze wanted to do the same, but his work demanded otherwise. "Saizo and I sent Hinata to search the theatre, and the remaining troops are searching the rest of the city. Also, there have been no Nohrian troops or signs of King Garon either, sir."

Yukimura made a sloght nod. "What of our king's body?"

"We've sent a ninja to bring him here, sir. " Suzukaze answered. "Saizo has a theory about what happened..."

"Oh? Pray tell, please."

There was no hesitation when Saizo spoke. "When we found His Highness's body, there were Nohrian arrows petruding from him. Without a doubt, sir." Yukimura's eyes snapped wide open, his gaze at full attention. "And before you state your suspicions, I made sure those arrows were the ones that killed him, and not someone else who posed the Nohrians for it. I can tell."

"... I do not doubt your words, Saizo, but it is astonishing that King Garon would do this... Absolutely astonishing..." 

Despite Saizo's unwavering stature, Suzukaze could tell he was ripping apart at the seams. The ensuing moment when there were no words being spoken was incredibly maddening. When the guide ninja appeared with Sumeragi's corpse in tow, it was highly bittersweet; no one wanted to face the reality of their dead king, but the silence was finally vanquished. The arrows were removed from him, but he was still as lifeless as before. Suzukaze turned his head away, unable to face Sumeragi, while Saizo stared at their king dead on. Yukimura examined him with gloomy yet calculating eyes, thinking about Garon's reasons for his death.

"... Load him onto our main caravan. And move him somewhere else if we find Lord Ryouma," Yukimura ordered. The ninja bowed and left for his task. "Saizo, Suzukaze, thank you. I knew I could rely on you for something as important as this, but our work is not done yet. We must find Lord R-"

"Lord Yukimura, sir! Pardon the intrusion," Hinata apologized when he saw the ninja twins with Yukimura before continuing. "Lord Saizo and Lord Suzukaze have left me with the task of searching the theatre for Lord Ryouma, and," he took a deep breath, "... This is all I could find of him. It tells us where he is." Hinata presented to Suzukaze and Saizo a katana, and a note to Yukimura.

"This is definitely Lord Ryouma's sword," Saizo observed. Suzukaze took it from him so he wouldn't destroy it from his rising rage. 

"What of the note, sir?" Suzukaze asked Yukimura.

He shook his head. "... We've lost Lord Ryouma as well," Yukimura replied, taking off his glasses. "King Garon wrote this, in blood. It says, "Prince Ryouma is mine now. He will become my Nohrian prince. If you truly want him back, face me in war." I... I can't believe this. Not only our king, but our high prince is gone as well..."

For Nohr, at least now, it seemed it would be easy to wage war against another country for something that they wanted. But Hoshido was the exact opposite; they had a very strict anti-war policy. Even though this was their high prince that was captured and their king that was killed, it was still a dilemma that couldn't be solved quickly.

"Saizo, Suzukaze, call our troops back. We must return to Hoshido as fast as possible."

~

 Marx could barely register the maids knocking on the door from outside, for he was still bawling on the floor. He never wanted to let go from Ryouma, his dearest friend, the one who he could say understood him the most.

It hurt badly to hold his hand, knowing that Ryouma would snatch his hand away in disgust if he were awake. 

But it also felt nice to be this close to him, even if there were no positive feelings involved with the gesture. 

"I want to run away with you, Camilla, Leon, and Elise... I want to leave... and free us all from this nightmare..." he coughed, his throat racked with phlegm from the crying. 

The door unlocked, and Marx could hear the maids scurrying inside the room. Marx wiped his eyes with his sleeve, a big sniffle the last proof of what had ensued before the they had come in. It was probably futile though; the maids had probably heard him crying.

"Excuse us, Lord Marx, but we need to attend to Lord Ryouma's wounds," one of the maids said. Good, some of the only trustworthy ones were here, Marx thought. 

"Oh, yes. Of course. I-I'm sorry for being in your way," he replied.

The maids bowed and a genuine smile graced their features. "Please, Lord Marx. You could never be in our way," another one giggled.

They walked to Ryouma's bed, setting their staves, bandages and salves aside. A medic was amongst them, and he examined Ryouma's wounds. Marx impatiently sat on the sofa in the corner. He just wanted Ryouma to be healed as fast as possible...

"By the gods..." the medic whispered. "Unbelievable..."

"What? What is it?" Marx quickly stood and strode to the medic's side. 

"I had only read about this in books," he whispered. "As you know, Lord Marx, Prince Ryouma has the blood of the Dawn Dragon running through his veins." Marx nodded; all the royals had either the Dawn Dragon or Dusk Dragon's blood within them. "It has only been recorded to have happened twice, but holders of the Dawn Dragon's blood can have their wounds healed almost immediately, no matter how severe. It seems the same thing has happened for Lord Ryouma; his ribs and leg are completely healed. However, no one knows why it happens... It is truly a miracle."

Marx heaved an impressive sigh of relief. He couldn't imagine Ryouma immobilized and unable to protect himself while a crazy concubine or one of their kids tried to take him out...

"Incredible... Well, as unbelievable as it is, I'm very glad he's okay," Marx sighed. "Either way, thank you all for your help. It's nice to have allies within this castle."

The maids and medic smiled bittersweetly at Marx as they proceeded to take Ryouma's bandages off, now that they no longer had a need on him. "Of course, my lord," the medic said. "We'll continue to watch over you two, as well as Lord Leon and Ladies Camilla and Elise."

"We'll also bring soup for Lord Ryouma. He hasn't eaten in two days, and his energy needs to be brought back up," one of the maids chimed in.

"Yes... I wish he could've eaten sooner, but his situation is... Anyway, I truly appreciate all of you helping so much. And please, be careful. My father... He's becoming worse." Marx warned, bidding the medic and maids goodbye. The door shut carefully, and Marx sat back down on the sofa, awaiting the food for Ryouma. Checking his pocket watch, he noticed it was almost six o'clock. His dinner was far away, in about four whole hours, but he didn't want Ryouma to eat dinner with him and the rest of his family; he could tell his father that Ryouma was running a high fever, and hopefully his father would comply.

Marx dared a look at Ryouma, somewhat confident that he wouldn't become as emotional as before. It relieved him greatly to know that Ryouma was no longer wounded; as odd as it was, being healed so suddenly, he was looking forward to tell Ryouma the news.

Hopefully Ryouma would actually believe him. 

The maid returned a few minutes later with food in tow. She set the tray on the nightstand, and turned to Marx.

"Is there anything you would like, Lord Marx?" she asked.

"No, thank you. I'll just... Wait until he wakes up." The maid bowed, as usual, and left. 

Hopefully he would soon, Marx thought. While Ryouma's wounds were healed, his fever was still present, and he would have to regain his energy. But while he waited, Marx committed to a decision; it mattered not if Ryouma didn't want his company, and despite Marx's inner conflict...

He would stay by Ryouma's side until the end.

~

It seemed as if the apocalypse had hit the Hoshidans; their ride home was as desolate as a funeral. No one dared to say a word unless absolutely necessary, and it seemed as if the three-hour long trip home lasted for days. A pit of despair rested itself into everyone.

No one wanted to return to Hoshido and face the reality of change, face telling them about the death of their king and kidnapping of their high prince, all by Sumeragi's former best friend and ruler of Hoshido's formerly close ally. No one wanted to think about the fate that was bound to reach their prince in captivity, a fate that could possibly be worse than death.

Hoshidans were always mobile, and yet they moved so sluggishly as they treaded through the royal capital. The citizens were bustling with activity and excitement over Sumeragi and Ryouma's supposed return, but their faces quickly turned concerned as they saw Yukimura and his men. Their voices became hushed, muttering amongst themselves.

"Where are His Highness and his son?"

"Usually King Sumeragi is always riding in the front..."

"Why do they look so sad?"

Suzukaze grimaced as he heard those comments. A ninja was not supposed to show their emotions or react to anyone else's, but this situation was an obvious exception to him... Saizo begged to differ, however, as his face remained steeled. 

The caravans trudged through the many crowds to Castle Shirasagi, unloading their cargo and Sumeragi's body with haste. Even though they had covered him with heavy cloth before, the possibility still existed for someone to get an idea of what happened before the news even reached the royal family. The samurai prepared a casket for him to be put in, while Yukimura, Saizo, and Suzukaze proceeded to find Mikoto within the castle. 

It was easy to find her in the throne room with Orochi, Yuugiri, and Kagerou by her side. Whenever Sumeragi was gone from the castle, Mikoto always took it upon herself to run things during his absence, even if that position was supposed to be taken up by Yukimura.

"Your Highness," Yukimura announced while bowing, Saizo and Suzukaze doing the same behind. "We... Bring dreadful news, unfortunately."

"... I know, Yukimura," Mikoto sighed, obviously very distraught, as she closed her eyes. "I did not receive any visions, but I did receive a very bad omen."

"...No words can express how sorry we are, milady," Yukkmura braced himself. "His Highness... He was killed by King Garon of Nohr."

Mikoto's eyes widened greatly, but not a word escaped her. 

"With all due respect, that can't be possible!" Orochi exclaimed. "His Highness and King Garon have been close friends for-"

"His Highness was shot by Nohrian arrows, in an alleyway." Saizo cut her off, opening his blind eye. Suzukaze grimaced at Saizo; he was used to his boldness, but at such a time... "And while we searched the theatre, Hinata found Lord Ryouma's katana and a note from King Garon." He proceeded up the steps to the throne and handed it to Mikoto, Kagerou and Yuugiri beckoned to read over her shoulder.

Even though the note was short, it took a long while for Mikoto to respond. "Ryouma too... What have we done to deserve this..." 

"We have done nothing, Your Highness," Saizo answered. "King Garon has betrayed us. Not only him, but the rest of his family, and Nohr as well."

Despite losing such dear family members, her husband and her son no less, Mikoto, while obviously upset, seemed much more calm than natural. But everyone new that it was just a facade, that she was expecting horrible news to befall her, that she was trying to stay strong. They all knew that the twine of her despair was wearing extremely thin, but she was doing her best to stop it from snapping.

"Yukimura, Saizo, Suzukaze, and the rest of the royal guard that was present at Cyrkensia... Thank you."

Suzukaze wasn't content with that. "Your Highness... It is because of us that-"

"Kaze." Mikoto deadpanned. "Don't stress about it. It was Nohr, not you. Please, do me a favor of not placing the blame on yourself."

She sounded so tired, Suzukaze thought, and it made the guilt strike him hard. "Forgive me, Your Highness, and thank you."

She forced a smile at Suzukaze. "You all must be so exhausted. Please, retire for the night, and tomorrow we'll discuss this topic further. It wouldn't do us good to speak on such a heavy matter with tired brains."

Yukimura, Saizo, and Suzukaze bowed, and turned to leave, a heavy air overfilling the throne room. Mikoto turned to Orochi, Kagerou, and Yuugiri, and suggested that they do the same.

~

With every step Mikoto took, it became harder and harder to keep herself afoot. Even though she just had dinner, an overwhelming desire to collapse in her bed and weep for her lost ones came over her. However, she knew her remaining five kids would want to hear about their father and brother's whereabouts. It would be extremely difficult to tell them the truth, Mikoto accepted, but she had gone through many difficulties in her lifetime. Family was something she had a habit of losing; first her two sisters Ikona and Shenmei were married off to fellow noble families (and it was something she had expected, but it had still hurt to not live with them anymore), and afterwards they had died from giving birth to Kamui and Azura respectively. And although she had taken Kamui and Azura as her own daughters, now her husband and son were gone. Mikoto could only hope that she wouldn't lose anyone else.

Through the shoji doors, Mikoto could hear her children talking and playing in her room. She always tried to spend her after-dinner time with them as much as she could, but it was too painful for her to think that yesterday was the last day Sumeragi and Ryouma would've be there as well.

She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and slid open the door. Five pairs of eyes immediately latched themselves onto her, and it became the most difficult thing in the world to muster a smile for them. They beckoned her over to sit with them, and she complied, releasing a quiet sigh. 

 "What's wrong, Mother?" Takumi was the first to ask the dreaded question. 

"And where are Father and Ryouma?" Hinoka followed. Kamui and Azura had the same curious expressions, while Sakura, only three years old, did not understand what was going on too well.

"Oh, my lovely children... I'm so sorry..." The Hoshidan siblings were too worried to say more. Their mother never acted this way, after all. "Your father, Ryouma... They're not coming back." The last part came out as a rasp, barely a whisper.

"Mother? Why not?" Kamui asked innocently.

Mikoto wrapped her arms around all of her children at once, comforting them for the news that was about to hit them. "Your father, Sumeragi... King Garon of Nohr... killed him." Their eyes were blown wide, and not a sound escaped them for a long time. Not until Takumi suddenly burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably. Hinoka was releasing angry whimpers, while Azura silently spilled her own tears. Kamui was struck, frozen, while Sakura cried because of her siblings anguish, not even understanding what her mother had said.

"And Ryouma, my sweet, precious son... He was... Taken to Nohr by Garon." Seeing her own kids so filled with despair pushed her over her limit, tears now riveting down her cheeks as well. She held her sobbing children as close as she could, her arms unable to stay steady as emotion overcame all of them. No words could escape them, only sounds. Mikoto slowly led her children to her futon, still cradling them as she moved. Their moment of grief lasted for minutes and minutes, something that they wished could last for hours. 

She pulled back the covers of her wide futon and tucked her children in one by one, sliding herself in the middle so she could hold onto them. They all cuddled into her, sniffles and sobs still the only things that could be heard until Hinoka finally spoke up.

"Even if I'm the only one, I will get Brother back," Hinoka vowed, her voice hoarse and her unstable speech infused with sniffles. "And I'll avenge Father, no matter what..."

"Oh, Hinoka..." Mikoto started. At their voices, the other four siblings raised their heads to listen. "Hoshido... It has always walked on the path of peace, has never been involved in warfare. I want Sumeragi and Ryouma back too, Hinoka. But," she said, bringing Hinoka even closer to her, her voice barely registering with restrained emotion. "I couldn't bare to lose you trying to get them back..." Hinoka wrapped her arms even tighter around Mikoto, reciprocating her feelings. She noticed that Hinoka didn't say anything in return.

All of them grasped onto each other tightly, the reality of their dead father and missing brother, something they couldn't even comprehend or accept completely, weighing immensely on their souls.

Eventually, their eyelids became heavy, and sleep was knocking on the door of their conscience. Sakura was the first to fall asleep, followed by Takumi and Kamui, and finally Azura and Hinoka. However, Mikoto stayed awake. Hinoka's comment had sealed itself in her mind; vengeance had never been Hoshido's way, but she did want to know, more than anyone could understand, why her husband's best friend killed him. Nohr and Hoshido were such close allies; no hatred was present, and nothing seemed wrong...

But Ryouma could still be alive, Mikoto thought. However, if she wanted him back so dearly, if her children and Hoshido wanted him back just as intensely...

Would they have to go through war for him? Could they not reach Garon without bloodshed? 

Would Hoshido break their vow of pacifism, just for their high prince? Though she loved Ryouma with all her heart, was the hundreds of lives that would inevitably be lost  _worth it?_

Mikoto did not sleep that night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know ikona was the hoshido sibs birth mom, but i decided to mess around and make her mikotos sister instead. i also know i said that ryouma was gonna interact with the nohrians, but... change of plans. thats gonna happen next chapter hopefully. and as for ryouma healing so suddenly, yeah thats coming later too. most likely in a few chapters from now.
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoyed. feel free to comment if you have questions because boy do i think im confusing.


	5. Nohrian Enmity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im really sorry this chapter came so late, i had six projects i had to do for school :/ but its the longest one so far, so hopefully it can kind of make up for that time.
> 
> also, i finally figured out the ages: marx and ryouma are 12, camilla and hinoka are 10, takumi is 7, leon is 8, sakura and elise are 3, kamui is 8, and azura is 9.

The rustling of the bed sheets snapped Marx's mind back to the present. Ryouma was awaking once more as he moved to stretch the effects of sleep out of his body. He blinked a few times, completely oblivious to his healed wounds and his missing hair. He then stilled, and Marx could only helplessly cling to the time that Ryouma's ignorance offered. 

The blonde's legs were trembling like a stampede of bulls. All it would take for Ryouma to regain his memories was a single glance at the mirror that faced the bed. His eyes stayed glued onto Ryouma's, watching where he was looking like a hawk would its prey. The Hoshidan's eyes were half lidded, obviously trying to force the sleepiness away as his gaze stuck to the boring stone ceiling.

It was hard for Marx to repress a jump of surprise as Ryouma suddenly had a coughing fit, and he could feel his heart urge him to rush to Ryouma's side and pat his back. However, his body and mind said otherwise; Ryouma wouldn't want Marx's help. Or his presence, for that matter, but Marx would still stay with him.

Soon the coughing stopped, and Ryouma turned to look at him. Marx composed himself to the best of his ability, and tried to simmer down the nervousness and anticipation in his gut. He was automatically fixated with a glare, but he wouldn't let it affect him this time. No way. Don't think about the past, he told himself.

It was hard.

"... The maids brought you soup," Marx started. "You have to eat, or else you won't get better. Your fever hasn't improved at all, so-"

"Why do you care?" Ryouma spat. Even though his voice was hoarse and sinuses clogged from the fever, his words still contained so much venom and power. If he remembered what had happened to him, perhaps that wouldn't be the case, Marx mused.

Ryouma wasn't met with an immediate response. Perhaps Marx should be stoic and practical, or let himself be emotional. It was something he had been debating ever since he saw Ryouma, and his swaying mind brought endless annoyance to him. He was so weak in front of his former friend. "I..." He sighed, internally shunning himself for surrendering to the latter option. "I-I want you to get better. I can't expect you to believe me, but it... It's something you need, as well. Especially if your going to live here for the rest of... your... oh..."

Oh, how Marx regretted his statement as it trailed off into nothingness. Why did he say that? He internally smacked himself; if only he had shut his mouth. Now Ryouma, expression stricken with pain and longing, would probably never comply to eat. Way to go, Marx.

"I-I didn't mean to say that, truly. I-I'm sorry..." Marx apologized meekly. Ryouma only released a snarl in response. There was no use in apologizing; no amount of words would suffice for the captive prince. 

The silence that followed needed to be filled, so Marx decided that it would be best to get up and fetch the soup by the nightstand. However, Ryouma adjusted his arms to sit up before Marx could move. 

 _This is it,_  he accepted, strongly wincing at Ryouma's movement. _But it was over long before this._

The brunette slowly pushed himself up with struggling arms, and Marx could only stay motionless in the sofa as he let the nausea from his anxiousness build within him. Ryouma's gaze remained at his lap as he was now sitting up, but his tired face quickly grew to one of surprise as he felt a certain absence of weight on his head. Then, Ryouma raised his head, and Marx felt like suffocating.

The gasp that the Hoshidan prince emitted was so sharp that it even made the Norhian lightheaded. His hands gripped his hair in a flash, eyes stricken with disbelief at the shortness and choppiness of it. Soon after, the disbelief was slowly replaced with recognition, and then the familiar tears that Marx was sick of seeing in Ryouma's eyes. He was expecting a much more violent reaction from him, but he quickly realized that Ryouma's feelings were so strong that they simply _couldn't be released_. 

Hands still clutching onto his hair, Ryouma panted furiously, small coughs from the stress on his throat mixed between them. If his behavior wasn't so concerning, Marx would've been worried that Ryouma would pull his hair out, even with his weakened arms. His gasping became faster, and Marx, albeit very warily, was compelled to trudge to his side.

It was clear as day that he was having a panic attack, and yet Marx could only stand by him, mind blank. It was a mistake on his part to stand so close to Ryouma in his state, because he rammed his arm into the blonde without a second thought. He stumbled backwards, nearly colliding with the nightstand. Words very well couldn't describe how devastated Ryouma was at that moment; being able to push Marx away with such force even though a fever ailed him was not something to be taken lightly.

"R-Ryou-"

Ryouma cut him off by growling loudly, his expression ferocious as tears riveted down his cheeks. He slowly lowered his head, letting the sheets become wet with his droplets of emotion. He truly looked rabid, and Marx was becoming a little frightened. He didn't know how to help Ryouma. Should he just leave him alone, or try to calm him down?

"What was the point of this..." Ryouma rasped. "What was the point of doing this...?" Marx knew that Ryouma was speaking of his chopped hair. At least he was speaking coherently, Marx thought pragmatically. 

"Why..." he continued, his stature trembling with repressed sobs. "Why didn't you j-just... Kill me?" Marx grimaced, speech becoming a foreign thing to him. "I'm trapped here, forever..." Ryouma paused, unable to muster any words for a long moment.

"...They wouldn't want me back with..."

 _Short hair_ , Marx finished. He wanted to tell Ryouma that it wasn't true, that his family was kind and loving enough to still treat him with affection despite what had happened, but Marx wasn't from Hoshido like Ryouma was. He had explained its importance, but Marx was sure it went beyond anything he could possibly fathom. Even so...

"Why?!" Ryouma boomed suddenly, making the blonde flinch. "Why didn't you just kill me along with Father?!" 

"...'M worth nothing to you all," Ryouma mumbled, voice now barely audible. He sucked in a big breath, the effects of his breakdown beginning to subside. "So why... Why won't you just grant me the mercy of death... The mercy of being with Father... I can't go home..." 

Marx wanted to believe that Ryouma's words were rhetorical, but he couldn't.

The Hoshidan's rant ceased, only his shaky breathing and poorly repressed coughs filling the room. At that moment, Marx couldn't put into words how out of place he felt, how much he wanted to simply vanish from existence. Just when he thought Ryouma was done talking for good, he rasped something under his breath.

"Please tell me you've come to finish me off..."

Nothing Ryouma had said or done made Marx's heart break more than that single wish. It was more painful than when he saw Ryouma in the dungeons, than when he woke him from his nightmare, and even more painful than witnessing what Garon had done to him.

Why did this have to happen? Why were the gods above so cruel that they ravaged Ryouma's life and made him wish for death? Why did they bring endless despair to Marx and force him to fight against his countless siblings in the concubine wars? Force him to despise his own father? Force him to let go of his best friend?

"No!" Marx shrieked, a sudden bolt of indignation sparking within him. "No... I would never, Ryouma..." he whispered, more to himself. "I..."

"Then why are you here?" Ryouma deadpanned. "If you're not going to put me out of my misery, then leave. I can't stand you. If I could, I would kill you right here and take revenge for Father."

Marx froze, goosebumps erect on his skin. He wanted to shrink under how real Ryouma's feelings were, how even though his soul seemed completely sapped earlier, it came right back with so much fire. The familiar tears prickled at his eyes, and Marx scolded himself for acting like a worthless, beaten puppy at the statement. Ryouma had every right to say what he had said, to feel what he felt. 

Marx tiptoed backwards to the door, like any additional sound would set Ryouma off. "... M-Make sure you eat," he spoke in a small voice. "I will be back soon." And with that, he quietly shut the door, ridding himself of Ryouma's presence.

Now left in silence, the brunette began to lose himself in his thoughts. If he still had his sword, he would definitely consider ending his own life. It didn't matter if he was a samurai in training (or a former one, rather); he was still the high prince of Hoshido, and he had brought an immeasurable amount of shame to his kingdom by getting himself kidnapped. Causing all of this trouble and pain for Hoshido, it would only be appropriate to take his life to atone for his failures. Even if he only wanted to reverse time and be back home with his family...

But there was still one thing constantly nagging his mind. He had been so gravely wounded by Garon, and yet his wounds vanished as if they had never existed. He couldn't imagine the medics being able to heal him to that extent, considering the fact that staves so efficient were incredibly rare, even in Hoshido. Or maybe they had used some kind of Nohrian magic? He was very loathe to admit it, but he should've asked Marx about it.

Ugh. Just thinking about that Nohrian made Ryouma's blood boil. How dare he act all emotional and sympathetic, like he was the victim? Like he was the one who had his family torn away from him and thrown into a country full of traitors? The facade that Marx put up made Ryouma sick beyond belief. He couldn't stand fake people, and Marx had been doing a fantastic job of making himself the pinnacle of such hatred. 

It irritated him even more to think about their past. Was his friendship with Marx all just a subterfuge? Was Garon's camaraderie with Sumeragi just a ploy to eventually bite him in the back?

Ryouma's fists curled in rage. The Nohrians had taken everything from him: his father, his hair, Raijinto, contact with his family, everything Hoshidan. All gone. And yet _somebody_ had the nerve to feign sadness, even though it was _him_ and _his_ family that had wrought such horrible things. If justice were to be served, then the family of the one Ryouma was fuming about would be dead. They all deserved it.

He took a deep breath, and tried not to let his tired mind venture into worst thoughts. He reached for the bowl of soup standing on the nightstand, relieved that there was still a bit of steam rising from it. The soup itself wasn't anything special; just some broth and a few bits of carrot. It smelled incredibly bland, and Ryouma felt a strong wave of homesickness overcome him. There was nothing more delicious than his mother's miso soup; hearty, seasoned, flavorful, and made with love.

Sadly, those days were gone. He would never be able to taste the deliciousness of homemade Hoshidan food with his parents or five siblings ever again.

Not even the salt his tears contained as they dripped into the soup could help flavor it.

~

Despite Garon referring to Ryouma as his new son, he didn't live with the rest of the Nohrian royal family in Clarkenstein, the royal villa located at the center of Castle Krackenburg. Marx wasn't complaining about this at all; with the concubines and their manipulated children running about and causing troubles, the last thing he would want for Ryouma would be to live with them all. No doubt countless assassination attempts would be held on him, so his father was smart enough to locate him in such an unassuming room. In the royal villa, despite the two words sounding like they promised luxury and safety, there was an immeasurable amount of backstabbing, murdering, and overall distrust.

 _All because the concubines want to gain Father's favor_.

Speak of the devil, Marx thought, because as he walked to his own quarters to retrieve his training sword, he spotted Elise's mother exiting Garon's room. She was a fairly tall woman, and her dresses were always boisterous to bring attention to her long, curly, blonde hair. Her purple eyes caught Marx and he proceeded to walk with a calm air, disregarding how she poised herself in his presence.

"Well, if it isn't Prince Marx," the concubine announced, feigning a pleasant expression. Marx could look right through her noblewoman disguise like a window.

"Lady Patricia," he replied, offering a curt bow. Patricia responded with an exaggerated curtsy. "How do you fare today?"

"Oh, extraordinarily well," she replied, making the prince grimace. "I just spoke with your father and found out something quite intriguing."

"And if I may inquire as to what it was? Because surely you have heard of the capture of the high prince of Hoshido, correct?" Marx didn't have the time or energy to play her games today. To be honest, he was booming with pride for being able to stand up to her and not lose his will, even if he felt the urge to shrink within himself and disappear.

Patricia narrowed her eyes in response. "Why, yes, I have! All of Nohr should know at this point!" She laughed overly sweetly, making eye contact with him the whole time. Marx felt the urge to laugh nervously along with her, but he was steeled today. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of the weak-willed Marx she was so familiar with. "And I'm positive Hoshido knows as well. Oh, whatever do you think they will do about it? Surely they want him back, right?"

Marx had to be careful with his words. He knew Patricia was testing him, observing every microscopic detail she could find within his reactions. When he replied, he kept a very straight face. "... I believe Prince Ryouma was invaluable to Hoshido, just as any prince or princess should be to their respective kingdom. They wouldn't trade him for anything." Oh, how he reveled in Patricia's annoyance. He would have to brag about it to Leon and Camilla later; this was the first time he had been able to speak so eloquently and cunningly to one of his father's courtesans!

"And I also believe that we should be wary of Hoshido's next actions, if they make any at all," he continued, as if he hadn't just made a severely backhanded statement to her. "It is unpredictable what they will do, after all."

"... Yes. A fair assessment, _Prince Marx_ ," Patricia snapped, no longer attempting to hide her irritation. "And his name is Ryouma, you say? Truly an exotic name," she observed, a sinister glint replacing the irritation in her eyes. "My, I wonder if he appears just as exotic as his name? Hoshidans are rumored to be very beautiful, as you must know."

Sweat gathered in Marx's hands at her reply. It was her twisted, sick way of saying that she was interested in Ryouma, particularly how to divert Garon's attention away from him by assassinating him. If Marx wasn't careful, he could accidentally reveal detrimental information to Patricia that would further her schemes...

"And since you seem so... Well-versed about Hoshidans, Prince Marx," Patricia started, "How do you suppose the young prince is faring right now? He must be very sad and heartbroken, right?" _Yes, and he's quite ready to murder us all_ , Marx wanted to say, but he remained silent. "Poor thing. Just what could your father be planning by kidnapping such an innocent young boy?" Her pseudo-concern was really grating on the crown prince's nerves. It was time she stopped tiptoeing around the tulips, but it wouldn't be the first time Marx had to endure it.

"Say... Do you know where he might be located in this vast castle? Perhaps I could talk to him, cheer him up...?"

Ah, the question that Marx dreaded. Back when they first met, he would believe that this woman was either really foolish for thinking that she could receive answers simply by asking, or that she was bluffing and merely trying to assess whether other people knew information she didn't wish for them to know or not. The answer was obviously the latter, as Patricia was, once again, surveying his reactions. She was a very disgraceful woman, he concluded, and he felt bad for Elise to have such a wicked mother. 

"... I do not know where he is located, nor how he is feeling right now," the young prince calmly answered to the best of his ability. He thought for sure that he was going to get nervous, stutter, and reveal to Patricia as clearly as day that he was lying. 

"... Humph," the concubine sounded, very unamused. "That is quite a shame. I was really looking forward to speaking with him..."

"Perhaps, if my father wills it, Prince Ryouma will be joining us for dinner," Marx supplied. How long would this conversation last? He just wanted to get his sword and leave.

"I suppose you are correct, Prince Marx. Either way, I thank you for taking the time to speak with me. Your company is _always_ appreciated," Patricia stated, her words dripping with insincere sweetness.

He bowed nonetheless. "Of course, Lady Patricia." She proceeded to walk away past him, side-eyeing him for a longer than natural amount of time. She could think that she had Marx right where she wanted him, but she was sorely mistaken. He had allies, and although it wouldn't be easy to protect his siblings and Ryouma from this woman, he would prevail.

As he entered his quarters, it hit Marx like a punch that now he would have to refer to Ryouma as one of his younger brothers. 

“Father keeps calling him his “new son”, after all,” he muttered to himself. “But Ryouma won’t ever be my brother. How could I, with him still having his own family…” He knew Ryouma would most likely never return to Hoshido, which filled him with an anger he wasn’t sure he deserved to feel or not.

With his sword in hand and a heavy sigh escaping him, Marx left the villa for the training grounds. While he used to love swords very much, holding them in his hand felt much heavier than before. He couldn't count how many times he had to pick up a blade to slay somebody within the castle, all for the sake of the ones he cared for that loved him back. However, his skills had to be refined; he was being pressured endlessly by his father to practice. The only upside to training for him was being able to protect better.

The steel sword he used in particular was quite expensive. Although it made no sense to Marx why he couldn't use the standard wooden ones to train, his father considered it imperative that he use heavier weapons. 

Most likely to force the softness out of him, Marx concluded grimly.

He missed deeply the days when his father was more understanding of his problems. Garon would guide him with a warm hand, and gently give him a smile of motivation when he struggled. Now, he would strike Marx and scold him. 

 _Just whatever caused this change?_ Marx internally demanded as he attacked the practice dummy. _What happened to Father? Why is he so cruel to us?_  

Another strike.

Wood chipped off of the dummy as it rattled on its stand. He didn't care if he wasn't in proper form anymore as his practice session became more of stress relief one. The tsunami of questions, frustration, and anger overwhelmed him as he destroyed his target. With a particularly strong attack, almost half the dummy broke off, tumbling to the hard ground.

The young prince breathed heavily as he watched the destroyed dummy, sword still clenched tightly in his hand. He didn’t even notice the heavy footsteps nearing him.

“Good work, son,” the king of Nohr remarked darkly as his empty eyes bore into Marx. 

He flinched violently, to which Garon met his eyes with an unamused and disappointed gaze. “O-Oh, Father,” he stuttered, unable to hide his tremble. “Thank you… For your praise.”

“… How did I conceive such a shy, weak-willed son?” Garon muttered, but his insult was still meant for Marx’s ears. “So nervous you can’t even face your own father.”

It was as if his earlier praise, no matter how empty the statement, was never spoken. A pang of sadness and self-pity stuck itself into Marx’s being, and he could feel him despised himself even more.

“I-I’m sorry, Father,” Marx offered, not being able to address Garon in the eye. “I-I’m tryi-“

“Look at me when you speak to me, boy!” Garon roared, and his son let out a weak whimper as his teary gaze met his father’s. He snarled angrily at the twelve year-old. “I care not if you are trying. I expect results, not this pitiful thing you call your _effort_ ,” Garon rebutted harshly as he continued. “I witnessed you make an acceptable strike on the target. Show me you can do it again, and perhaps my mind will change."

“… Y-Yes, Father." Hesitantly, Marx proceeded to a different dummy, sweat making the handle of his sword difficult to grip. He turned to Garon, who stared at him with narrowed eyes like a wolf would a bunny. 

He tried to suppress a shiver. He could do this, he told himself. All he would have to do is focus on his blade, clear his mind, and do the same attack he had done earlier, even if he could feel Garon’s gaze practically burning a hole through him.

He raised his sword and took a deep breath. _I need to make Father proud. I need to show him I can fight!_ He inhaled deeply once more, attempting to still his arms that were trembling with gradually increasing nerves.

_Stop shaking! I need to…_

“What are you waiting for? Do it!” Garon commanded, and Marx could feel al of his self confidence vanish. If he were a rabbit, the frail, soft creatures he adored endlessly, he would be dead with fright.  

What was he thinking? He couldn’t possibly make his father proud! He was weak, feeble; not meant for any combat.

“Y-Yes, Father.” He heard a low rumble from Garon, and Marx wanted to laugh at himself for thinking that he could muster the strength to please him anyhow. What he had done to the other dummy earlier was practically a miracle. 

And for Marx, miracles only happen once.

With all of his limbs quaking and his sword about to slip from his hands, Marx attempted a lunge at the dummy, grimacing as his eyes subconsciously squeezed shut. 

Garon didn’t need to move to see Marx’s failure. “… Given that you are my eldest son, Marx, I will grant you leeway for this. Had you been anyone else, I would see no reason to keep you standing here.” 

The words offered no comfort to Marx as they told him only two things; he had probably barely made a cut in the dummy, and if he were to disappoint his father once more like how he had done just now, he would be dead.

Marx kept his eyes shut so the deluge of tears wouldn’t slip through. He turned away from the dummy; he didn’t need to see what minimal damage existed on it, for the wooded figure would smite him endlessly.

“F-Forgive me, Father. I keep disappointing you…” He apologized despite his father's earlier warning.

Garon hummed, a wicked smile appearing on his face, the same one Marx saw in his nightmares. “… To solve that problem, perhaps I should strip your title of Crown Prince of Nohr away from you,” Garon noted. “I am sure Prince Ryouma would be much more suited for the position.”

Marx froze. His sword clattered to the floor. He was speechless, emotions ramming into each other in his head. 

The wicked king of Nohr let out an amused, twisted laugh. Marx didn’t want to see the demonic expression he was sure his father was directing at him. Was he truly that abominable of a crown prince of Nohr that the high prince _of Hoshido_ would make a better candidate?

“Father, please…” He forced himself to face Garon, voice barely making sound with his suppressed feelings. “One more chance to prove myself…” _And don’t do this to Ryouma._

Garon remained silent for a long moment, eyes narrowed as he scanned over Marx. “… I will accept your declaration.”

“Thank you…”

“And make sure Ryouma will join us for dinner. His appearance and introduction to the _rest of our family_  is imperative,” Garon ordered. 

Oh no. He had already told Patricia it was a possibility that she might see him later, but to hear the definite answer from his father brought a whole new fear to Marx. It was like Garon _wanted_ Ryouma to become a prime target!

From now on, the war the concubines waged against each other and their children would only get worse, the crown prince accepted grimply.

~

“Exactly! And in this other book I read, which was about when Nohr-“

The sound of a fist continuously meeting wood interrupted Leon’s knowledgeable explanation of Nohrian history. With a sigh, Cassita stood up from a chair, cracked her back, and answered the door. 

Thankfully, the one awaiting at the door was Elise’s other wet nurse, Amelia. She was a pale, thin woman, with sky blue eyes and auburn hair tied into a braid that rested over her left shoulder. 

The youngest Nohrian princess herself was nestled into Amelia’s arms, expression bright as ever.

“Big Sis!” Elise exclaimed, struggling out of Amelia’s grasp. She fumbled to catch her, and before Cassita could take Elise from her, Camilla appeared, successfully seizing the young princess.

“Oh, my darling Elise,” Camilla cooed, hugging her tightly. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“I missed you too Camilla!” Elise declared, before turning her head to Leon, who stood awkwardly beside his older sister. “Hi, Leon!”

He cleared his throat. “Hello, Elise.”

“Oh, stop being so stiff,” Camilla said, handing Elise to Leon. “Earlier, you were so excited to see her; you could barely sit still! So stop pretending,” she teased. Elise, despite barely understanding what Camilla had said, released a bubbly giggle, bouncing in Leon’s arms.

“W-well, Camilla may have just told you a blatant lie, Elise,” Leon tried, to which the lilac-haired princess hummed amusedly, “But nonetheless, I did miss you.”

“Haha!” she cried, smacking Leon’s cheek with an unsteady hand. Despite the small size of her palm, it left a red mark on his face.

“Ah-!” he grunted lightly. “Except for that. I could do well without it,” Leon muttered, coaxing chuckles from the other three females.

Leon set Elise down on her bed, fetching her a doll from a nearby trunk to play with.

“Oh,” Amelia started. “Shall I fetch Lord Marx?” She suggested, to which Elise immediately dropped the doll she had just received.

“Big Bro Marx?” Elise questioned, unable to pronounce the ‘x’ sound very clearly; she was still missing a few of her front teeth. “Yay!”

Amelia smiled, proceeding to leave the room. However, when she opened the door, she saw Marx trekking through the hallway.

“Ah, Lord Marx,” she announced, catching his attention. “Princess Elise has arrived; she is in here,” she informed, gesturing behind her.

Marx’s stony face softened at the mention of his baby sister, and he followed Amelia without hesitation. He made sure to set his sword down at the entrance first before approaching Elise.

The youngest princess of Nohr looked like she was about to fall off her bed when she saw Marx. “Big Bro Marx!” she squealed.

“Elise,” Marx sighed happily. Although he had mixed feelings about her living in Krakenburg with the rest of their family, seeing her bubbly attitude truly brightened his depressing day. He gathered her into his arms, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. Elise giggled once more, playing with her older brother's curly hair.

“How have you been, my little rose?”

“Good!” she boomed. “And soooooo happy!”

He released a small chuckle at her behavior, but it made his heart hurt all the same. He had lost so many innocent siblings already, and if he were to lose Elise… He wasn’t certain he would be able to handle that. “I’m glad you’re with us, Elise.” 

He gestured for Cassita to take her as he moved to speak with Camilla and Leon.

“How have you two been?” Marx asked, releasing a sigh. Camilla and Leon seemed slightly distraught by his question.

“Just when we see our dear Elise again, you change the subject to something so dark,” Camilla feigned a pained front. Her words held no malice, and Marx knew she was trying not to reveal her true feelings on the matter in front of Leon, but he couldn’t help sporting a sheepish expression. “… We’ve been managing. Seeing Elise has brightened our day greatly, however,” she offered, a grin adorning her face.

“Elise does have that effect, doesn’t she?” Marx mused, turning to see Cassita speaking vigorously with her. Hopefully she hadn’t done something worrying already, he thought.

Leon nodded. “Cassita has been welcome company as well,” he stated. “She was able to take our minds off of Father by engaging us in a pleasant conversation.”

“And what would that be about?” 

“Nohr’s past.” 

The crown prince immediately frowned,  taking in the heavy weight hidden behind Leon’s sharp words. 

“Leon… I’m sorry. I wish I could do something about it, about all this, but I-“

“Brother, stop apologizing.” Leon’s young, plump face was as hard as steel, something Camilla and Marx rarely saw. They both got the feeling that it would be something they would see a lot more often. “You keep apologizing, but it’s not changing anything. We’ll still be stuck in this situation for gods know how long.” Leon paused, a flash of some foreign emotion appearing in his eyes as he paused his rant.

“… It’s not your fault,” he continued, voice considerably softer. It was until then that Marx saw how tired his brother and sister truly looked. “There’s nothing you can do, nothing Camilla can do, nothing I can do to actually _change_ this situation. We can only endure. So stop apologizing, please. You haven’t caused it or done anything wrong.”

Had this been a different scenario, a different world, Marx would’ve been somewhat proud that his seven year-old brother was speaking in such an advanced and intelligent way. Instead, he could only stand still, defeated by Lon's rationality, intellect, and genius.

“… You’re right, Leon. I’m sorry,” to which the boy in name groaned. Marx could only smile bittersweetly at his brother’s antics as he spoke. “I just worry about you two a lot.”

“If it’s anyone we should worry about, it’s you, dear brother. Look at yourself,” she shot him an accusatory glare, examining his sweaty clothes and exhausted figure. “What happened earlier? Your eyes look red.”

The crown prince grit his teeth. “… I had an encounter with Father while I was training. He… Wanted to test my swordplay.”

There was more to it, Camilla acknowledged in her head, but she decided leave that case alone. “… You’ve been handling the brunt of Father, after all. Not to mention Prince Ryouma…”

“Exactly,” Leon agreed. “You’ve more than enough to handle, so we must continue to protect each other.”

“As long as the four of us stay together,” Camilla gestured to herself, her two brothers and Elise. “We’ll be fine.”

“Oh, speaking of Prince Ryouma,” Leon started, “Do you think we should check up on him? And perhaps, bring Elise with us?”

Marx grimaced. “I’m not sure he would want to see us, Leon…”

“I know. But he will have to get used to us eventually, even if he does despise us. Aren’t you hoping to gain his trust somehow?”

“I’ve abandoned that foolish hope as soon as I saw him here, Brother. The most I can do is keep trying to protect him.”

“… Hmph,” Leon grunted. “I still think we should go.”

“I agree. If Elise is with us, it can’t be too bad. Besides,” Camilla's face darkened, “We can’t leave him alone while he’s so vulnerable.”

Marx considered his options; what Camilla had said was very true, and he was swayed quite easily to follow her reasoning. “… Very well, then. Let us go.” The lilac-haired girl strode to Elise, coaxed her to take her hand and proceeded to leave, while Marx took his sword he had left for good measure.

When the four left Clarkenstein, Marx spoke up in a wistful voice. “I cannot thank you three enough for staying by my side. You are the light that shines through this dark, horrible world of ours.”

~

Ryouma was woken up by a resounding knock on the wooden door of his room. He wanted to roll his eyes at the action; Nohrians knocking to express their politeness despite what they had done to him was an ultimate mockery. However, he was simply too tired to even be annoyed. He merely sat up, uncaring of whoever was seeking his attention.

When Marx didn’t hear a reply, he cracked the door open, peeking his head through. Ryouma had turned his head to see who it was, and simply turned it back. The crown prince could immediately sense the indifference coming from Ryouma; he looked as if he was awaiting death. Witnessing such a pitiful sight made him want to turn back and pretend as if he had never came to Ryouma’s room in the first place, but his siblings had urged him to do otherwise.

Ryouma didn’t watch the blonde hesitantly step into the room, nor did he spot the sad expressions him and his siblings were sporting. He hadn’t even noticed Elise’s bubbly and excited attitude, the complete opposite of everyone else there. 

However, Marx noticed that they didn’t have the captive prince’s attention, and that his eyes were set on something Marx was bearing; his steel sword. 

The blonde grit his teeth, scowling. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he groaned, and he could’ve sworn he saw Ryouma’s shoulders sag with failed discretion. He frowned, and was becoming slightly irritated with how unresponsive the Hoshidan was to everything, as understandable as it may have been. 

Ryouma only reacted with a slight jump when Elise practically threw herself on the bed soon afterwards, crawling excitedly towards him. 

“Wooaaaah,” she whispered in awe, “You’re pretty!”

“Elise!” Leon snapped, dragging her off the bed. She booed, and Marx was already starting to regret bringing her to see Ryouma. 

At the young girl’s statement, Ryouma could only bring himself to wince. He was’t pretty; at least, not anymore. His caretakers and even his sisters would comment on how beautiful he was, with his striking yet kind green-grey eyes and soft mane of hair. He would always respectfully disagree with their claims, but now they seemed like lies more than ever.

“Big Bro Marx, who is he?” Elise inquired, pointing at Ryouma. Marx sighed.

“He’s…” he paused, thinking of how to word this as best as possible. “… A new brother of ours. But you won’t be spending much time with him,” he explained carefully, narrowing his eyes at his own words; he spoke as if the Hoshidan wasn’t even there.

“Why not?”

“Well… Because-“

“Your father killed mine and kidnapped me,” Ryouma effectively cut him off. It was time they stopped beating around the bush, he thought.

All the Nohrians winced, except for Elise, who remained confused.

“… What does that mean?”

The silence that followed was agonizing, but not for Ryouma. 

Leon finally opened his mouth to explain, but Camilla quickly hushed him; their baby sister was simply was too young to understand, and she didn’t want to burden her with the ceaseless curiosity it was bound to induce.

Meanwhile, Marx took the moment that followed to examine Ryouma. Despite his depressed state, his fever looked as if it had significantly died down. Of course, the blonde wouldn’t know for sure unless he checked his temperature. He hesitantly walked to Ryouma’s bedside. There were no visible signs showing his discomfort at the action, he hadn’t tensed, and he was still staring ahead. 

“Excuse me,” muttered Marx, slowly reaching his hand to place it on Ryouma’s forehead. Just as he had expected, his temperature felt normal. First his severe wounds were mended as if they had never existed, and now his fever had practically vanished? What was happening to him?

“You’re fever has died down considerably. Not to mention the wounds you suffered… Do you know what is happening?” Marx knew he probably wouldn’t answer, but he could still venture an inquiry.

Ryouma didn’t need to spare a glance at him to know that he was fishing for some valuable information by using a surprised voice. He didn’t bear the answer to Marx’s question, and even if he did, in his life-sucked state, he would never tell him. If there was one thing Ryouma still cared for in his life, it was the wellbeing of his family and country. Anything he could possibly know that would somehow place Nohr above Hoshido, he would never reveal; it was simply the least he could do now.

Marx pulled his hand away at Ryouma’s slight shake of his head, moving to retreat back to where he was standing. He hummed in acknowledgement of the Hoshidan prince’s answer, knowing full well that he could’ve lied, but it didn’t matter. Honestly, the only thing that did matter was how he could keep this odd phenomenon a secret from his father. 

“So…” Leon started, trying to fill the silence. His plan was going downhill before they even came to Ryouma’s room, he internally admitted. “How was… Your soup?”

The Hoshidan shrugged, uncaring of how uninformative his answer was. What kind of question was that anyway? 

“I see…” Leon sighed. “Well, m-“

“Booooring!” Elise shouted. Before Leon could stop her, she made her way to Ryouma’s side once more. 

“My name’s Elise! What’s your name?” The crown prince of Nohr was somewhat thankful that she hadn’t done something rash again. Introducing herself was a good start to whatever they could possibly make with Ryouma.

Elise’s loud voice was urging a headache from the brunette, but he knew he should answer. He hated seeing anything or anyone Nohrian now, but this small toddler couldn’t do anything that would bring him to hate her, right? There was definitely the possibility that she was faking, but it was very unlikely that she knew what was going on.

And besides, what else did he have to lose?

“… Ryouma.”

“That’s a cool name!” Elise announced, proceeding to search for his hands. Marx flinched, but decided to wait and see what she would do; she had gotten Ryouma to lower his guard a bit, after all. With her tiny hands, she held one of his in a caring hold. “Hey… Big Bro Marx said that you’re gonna be our new bro, so let’s spend the whole day talking! Because I already love you lots!” Elise somehow managed to wrap her arms around Ryouma’s middle, making him as stiff as a board. She wouldn’t stop giggling as she buried her face in his chest, overspilling with glee. Somehow, this reminded Ryouma of Sakura, of how she would cuddle to him so closely when he picked her up, and seeing Elise do the same filled him with so much longing and disgust at the same time. This girl would never be his baby sister, and yet he never wanted to return home to see Sakura again when he knew that her face would fall immediately upon seeing how much he had changed.

The princess’s behavior was ceased by Marx, who dragged her away from him. “That’s enough, Elise.”

She pouted, trying to escape Marx’s hold by sagging in his arms. “Waaah! But I wanna keep talking to him!”

“This won’t be the last time you’ll see him, my dear Elise,” Camilla reassured while taking her from Marx, who turned his attention to Ryouma.

“Excuse my youngest sister. She can be… overbearing at times,” Marx explained. 

For some strange reason that perplexed him, Ryouma wasn’t as angry with her company as he was with Marx’s. Perhaps her bubbly nature got the better of him.

“Also, my father would like you to join us for dinner, in about an hour. But I, umm… Don’t believe you’d want to spend all that time waiting in this room. There is somewhere we can go that isn't depressing.” The small smile that Marx attempted looked more like a grimace than anything, causing Ryouma to become a little skeptical. He may had made it sound like he was genuinely caring for Ryouma’s wellbeing, but like he had just thought a moment ago, the suggestion was most likely to lure him into some kind of trap. 

However, Ryouma couldn’t help but wonder why he was skeptical in the first place. He wanted nothing more than to be put out of his misery and save trouble for Hoshido, so why was he even caring about how Marx and his siblings acted towards him?

Ryouma sighed. Was the soup spiked with something? But it wasn’t like he had a choice to defy them, and Elise was urging him on with her wide open eyes…

“Fine.”

Elise lit up immediately. “Yay! There’s this really cool place I wanna show you!” 

With another sigh, Ryouma swung his legs off the bed, used to the elevation it offered. He was still dressed in the same clothes as before, and Marx gave him a shy nod when Ryouma finished straightening them. Marx opened the door first to make sure the coast was clear before beckoning Ryouma and his siblings to follow.

“So the plan wasn’t a complete failure then,” Leon mused quietly. Camilla chuckled.

“Of course it worked, Leon. It was made by you, after all,” she cooed. Leon sighed at his big sister’s attempts at flustering him. “It’s true. You’re just so smart. And you speak so intelligently! I forget you’re only eight.”

“Yes, well… I read a lot. But in all seriousness, I really wasn’t expecting Ryouma to comply with Marx. Elise really swayed him, didn’t she…”

“What did you say, Leon?” Elise chimed in. Wasn’t she just speaking with Marx a second ago? Leon wondered. She fell out of step with their older brother to walk closely by his side.

“I was just… Saying I was glad that you’ve been so welcoming to Ryouma. Even if he doesn’t trust us, I’m grateful you’re trying to make the effort.”

“Of course!” Elise winked at him. “He’s our new big bro! But Marx is still our big bro too, so… Two big bros!” She giggled. Leon smiled.

“I suppose so. And it’s good that he’s not lying in bed anymore. No doubt it was very depressing for him…”

Marx tuned in on his siblings’ conversation as he walked silently next to Ryouma. At Leon’s words, he glanced over at the Hoshidan. His gaze was downcast, but he could see an occasional slight twitch of his ears; so he was listening to their conversation too, the crown prince observed. He wanted to be pleased that Ryouma was taking the time and energy to do so, but he could only feel disappointed because of the reason why; it would be foolish of him to believe that Ryouma was starting to trust them so easily.

“We’re almost there,” he told Ryouma. At his lack of a response, he decided to believe that Ryouma was still very untrusting of them. 

“Oh, oh, Ryouma!” Elise said, moving away form Leon to skip by his side. She completely butchered the pronunciation of his name.  “Wanna know where we’re going?”

Ryouma glanced at her. Her eyes were so bright they were almost hard to look at. So bright, that they almost looked... _Fake_.

Ryouma’s expression faltered even more at the thought. 

He shrugged to answer her question, and he saw Elise’s face fall for a split second before lighting up again. “We’re going to this super cool place with flowers! There’s a whole bunch of them and they’re super duper pretty!”

“Elise, you just ruined your own surprise…” Leo muttered under his breath, to which she turned to look at him.

“What does surprise mean?” He shook his head, groaning at his sister's ignorance. Elise continued on as if nothing happened. “Anyway, aren’t you- hey, are you listening? Ryouma?”

Her question fell on deaf ears as Ryouma felt a stab of longing at his heart. Leon’s tone reminded him instantly of the ones that Takumi would take at Kamui whenever he tried to reprimand her for acting goofy or clumsy, despite her being older than him.

Ryouma took a deep breath. These people would never be his beloved siblings, but Elise wouldn’t stop bugging him. “Sorry. I was thinking,” he offered begrudgingly, and somehow Elise didn’t push the subject.

When they arrived at then end of the corridor, Marx pushed the grand doors that led to the garden open, and Elise immediately dashed forward on her small legs. Leon jogged to keep up with her while Camilla lazily sped walked. Ryouma followed hesitantly, adjusting to the outside air, and Marx followed behind him, glancing around to make sure there wasn’t anyone else there with them.

Surprisingly, for the Hoshidan, it was quite dark outside, as if clouds were shutting off the sun. However, looking up, he saw that there were castle walls spiraling up, making it seem like Castle Krackenburg itself was located in a pit. 

“Ryouma, Ryouma! Sit over here!” The young princess shouted after lunging herself into the field of baby pink flowers under a tree, violently patting the spot next to her. He snapped out of his daze and complied, grateful that it was her and not anyone else that he was moving to sit next to. 

“Aren’t they pretty?” Elise asked, plucking one of the flowers out of the ground and giving it to Ryouma. “When Amelia was bringing me here, I saw this really big field of pink stuff! She’s my nanny, by the way. And I asked her what it was, and she said it was my mommy’s flowers that she planted herself! Amelia says mommy likes them because there's not a lot of flowers in Nohr. So I wanted to go see these,” she explained, moving to pluck out another flower. “And now I’m even more happy because I came here with a new big bro!” She practically threw herself at him, and Ryouma felt an even stronger urge than before to dodge her hug. The garden was beautiful, but Ryouma couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. It was sickening to him. 

It looked too much like his mother's own garden back at Castle Shirasagi. She had been inspired to make one of her own after coming across a cherry tree in full bloom. In the spring, the enormous tree that stood in the center of her garden would be overflowing with blossoms, and the ground would be littered with them. It was the most tranquil ocean of pink imaginable…

~

It was three days after Ryouma’s baby sister had been born, and they still couldn’t decide upon a name. All of his siblings, Sumeragi, and Mikoto were taking a walk while arguing over the newborn.

“I’m telling you, her name should be “Hikari”!” Hinoka announced defiantly.

“You just want that because it sounds like “Hinoka”,” Takumi countered.

“No I don’t! And no it doesn’t! Are you deaf, Takumi?”

Ryouma sighed, albeit amusedly. “What about… “Hana”?”

“Yeah! Wait… It should be “Kazahana”! That sounds cooler,” Kamui said.

“What about… Kagome?” 

“Azura, that's too gloomy,” Hinoka rejected. “The name “Kagome” means “lost”.”

“Or basket weaver,” Takmui muttered quietly.

Mikoto sighed, turning her head to Sumeragi. “We just can’t seem to find the right name… Every time someone suggests one, one of us always disagrees with it…”

“I say we rock-paper-scissors and call it a day,” Sumeragi mumbled, and Mikoto stared at him like he grew three heads. “A jest!” the king guffawed, and his wife sighed once more.

“Mother, are you tired?” Ryouma asked gently, detaching himself from the argument to walk by her side. “I know walking is part of your physical therapy, but perhaps we should stop so you can rest.”

“... I think we should. There is a sitting area not far from here, near a grove,” she answered, gracing him with a smile. “And thank you, Ryouma. You’re always looking after me, unlike this one.” She pointed at Sumeragi, who feigned an accused and hurt expression.

“You wound me, my darling!” Sumeragi exclaimed dramatically, to which his oldest son stifled a snicker. “Hey! It’s not funny!” He trapped him in a headlock and ruffled his hair, making Ryouma release his pent up laughter. “Remember son, women may be the superior gender, but they're a ton of work. Always so demanding,” he whispered loudly while directing a harmless glare at Mikoto, who simply raised an eyebrow at him.

“Father, I have a mother and four sisters, remember?”

Sumeragi sucked his teeth. “I meant wives, Ryouma! And besides, your youngest sister is three days old and your oldest sister is barely seven. Nowhere near a woman,” he joked, sending a look over his shoulder.

“Hey! I heard that!” Hinoka shouted, to which everyone chuckled.

The arguments ceased at Sumeragi’s jokes, and Mikoto was thankful for the peace they offered. Even though their family was very close, it was quite bewildering to her how they couldn’t agree on a name after three whole days of debate. It just meant that their youngest family member was incredibly special, she supposed happily.

The family took a break from their walk as they reached some benches near the grove that Mikoto had mentioned. After a few minutes, a breeze carrying cherry blossom petals whisked by them, and Takumi turned his head in the direction of the wind.

“Hey, look! There’s a huge cherry tree over there!” Takumi announced while pointing to the center of the grove, and Sumeragi found there to be quite the enormous cherry tree in the distance. 

“That’s not too far from us,” he decided, already moving to the sidewalk that led into the grove. “Shall we go see it?”

“Sure,” Mikoto answered, and they all proceeded down the trail. In about a minute, they were all standing before the great cherry tree, cherry blossoms coating it like wisteria as it towered over them.

“Wow,” Kamui voiced, reaching to scoop up some petals from the ground. “It’s so beautiful!”

“Indeed,” Mikoto agreed. One petal in particular floated down onto her newborn bundled in her arms, right on the baby’s nose. Her husband and rest of her children gathered around her when they noticed her looking down at the baby girl.

“Hey, it’s on her nose!” Hinoka and Azura laughed. Sumeragi turned to face his family, an accomplished expression plastering his face.

“I think we all have the perfect name for her,” he said, to which his five kids nodded vigorously. Mikoto smiled sweetly, gesturing for her family to come closer. 

“Her name will be Sakura.”

~

Ryouma’s trembling stature made Elise pull away, her purple orbs gazing up at him worriedly. “Big Brother, are you- oh, you’re crying!” Elise’s statement made Marx, Camilla, and Leon turn their heads from where they were sitting, concern evident in their eyes.

Marx was the first to trek to Elise and Ryouma. He didn’t say anything, only examined Ryouma and his surroundings. At that moment, the Hoshidan wished with a passion that he still had his long hair to mask his tear-stained face.

“Elise…” Camilla annunciated warily. 

“I didn’t do anything!” Elise threw her hands in the air like a culprit, her eyes wide with fear. “I don’t _think_  I did anything… Ryouma, what’s wrong?”

He could feel all of their eyes on him, urging an answer from him. He just wanted to vanish from their gazes, vanish from those cursed eyes full of feigned worry. Their concern was fake, and he realize that Elise was probably doing the same. He was certain that was the truth, and he was a fool for letting Elise come close to him, for thinking that she was different, that maybe she could be his only ally here. 

A toddler. A toddler girl that was just as wicked as  _Marx_  and his _wretched, traitorous family_.

“Big Brother, I’m sorry-“

“Don’t call me that! I’m not your damn “Big Brother”!” Ryouma snapped, and he felt the most minuscule urge to apologize when he saw Elise’s eyes glisten with that wetness he was so sick of feeling in his own eyes. She was the one who did this to him. She was related to the ones that ruined his life, he reminded himself. 

Because if they could make Sakura live her life with her oldest brother missing, then Ryouma could make Elise live without her new “big brother”.

The young girl ran into Marx’s arms, her voice muffled as she cried into his shirt. Ryouma could see the crown prince staring at him from his peripheral vision with that same _worried gaze_ , and at that moment, Ryouma knew that if he were to look away from his clenched fists, from the flowers beneath him and look up at Marx, he would lose whatever sanity he had left.

He needed to be left alone. They needed to leave him. And yet, they only stood there, with that same _cursed_ emotion in their eyes.

“Why are you just standing there?” Ryouma annunciated very slowly, barely containing the dam that was another meltdown. “You have what you wanted. You wanted to break _every single piece_  of me. And I’m here, before _you_ ,” he spat, the words directed at Marx, “Barely a shell of my former self. So what else do you want? What else can you take from me?!”

The scene Ryouma was displaying was exactly like the one from earlier, Marx reminisced, and yet he didn’t know how to stop him this time. Elise was shivering with fear in his hold, and Ryouma began sobbing, clutching on to his choppy hair once more. 

 _Just like earlier_. _And I_ still _don't know what to do._

“It’s okay, Elise, it’s okay,” he hushed, stroking the top of her head while guiding her to Camilla. When she was out of his hold, he attempted stepping closer to Ryouma, but not close enough to touch him.

The words may have been meaningless to the captive prince, but there was nothing else he could say or do to help him. “Ryouma… W-We’re trying to help you. I can’t expect you to believe us, but we’re... Garon isn’t manipulating us to trick you. You have no idea how saddened we are to see you in this state, Ryouma. That’s why we tried to bring you here-”

“Lies! Those are all lies, lies, lies, lies!” Ryouma couldn’t even gather the strength to stand himself up, so he was forced to look up at Marx like some rabid psycho. “If you really cared, then why did you let Elise bring me _here_  of all places? She was in on it, wasn’t she?”

Marx wanted to play the fool by not responding, Ryouma angrily realized, so he continued. “You remember… M-Mother’s own garden in Hoshido. I took you there. And it looks exactly like this,” he gestured at the flowers with his hand, before violently grabbing a fistful of them. It was becoming harder and harder for him to speak proper words as his vocal chords were saturated with emotion. 

Marx felt the realization hit him hard, like a frosty knife drove itself within him. He had made a _very_  grave mistake by agreeing to bring him here.

“So why... Why did you bring me here, if you knew that it looked exactly like...” Ryouma trailed off.

Marx didn’t know what to say, and his brain didn’t want to come up with a response. His heart was ruling over his entire being.

“… Leave me alone. Now,” the captive murmured with a hoarse voice. “If this was your objective, there’s nothing left for you to do. Spare me the pain of you mocking me, of you mocking what I’ve become at you and your father's hands, and leave.”

The heavy air was only filled by Elise’s quiet sniffles in the background and the sounds that were coming from Ryouma, which were lapsing between heavy breathing and sobs. Marx couldn’t find the strength to move his legs.

“Ryouma, I can’t just leave you hear unprote-“

“Unprotected?! You want to call what you've been doing "protecting"?! I’ve already accepted that I’ve become your toy for your sick tormenting, okay?! I get it! I was foolish for trying to fight back! I was foolish for still thinking that I had some _meaning_  to my life after my hair was cut. I don’t even have the right to feel angry because I’m _nothing_ without it. I mean _nothing_ to everyone now. So just leave! NOW!” Ryouma screamed, so loudly that his voice gave out at the end. 

Hesitantly, the blonde steadily left the gardens, keeping his eyes on Ryouma the whole time as he walked away, his siblings silently following behind. When Ryouma heard the doors click shut, he finally let himself release some of his anger and frustration. He yanked some of the flowers out of the ground, squeezing them so hard that he could feel the sap within the stems oozing onto his hands. He didn’t feel a single drop of remorse, even if it was Elise’s mother’s garden. They deserved it.

Soon afterwards, he was inhaling violently, sitting in a pool of dead flowers, some of which were completely snapped from the stems. He knew he couldn’t truly calm down unless he left this place. After brushing off his clothes, he pushed the flowers into a small pile. There was still so many standing that the dead ones would barely be noticeable. 

Looking down at the innocent plants he ravaged, Ryouma noticed that all the petals were still intact.

 

~

“Why was he so mean, Camilla?” Elise asked quietly, sniffles interrupting her speech. “I thought he was our brother…”

“He is our brother, my dear Elise. But he’s been having a very tough time lately. Life hasn’t been very nice to him,” she sighed.

“Why hasn’t life been nice to him? Has life been nice to me?”

Marx and Leon grimaced, while Camilla hid her disdain with an overly-sweet grin. “Life has been nice to you. But for Ryouma, not so much. Sometimes other people cause life to be mean to someone, or the chances are random.” She glanced at Marx, who gave her a wary gaze. “For our big brother, it was random for life to be mean to him.”

“Ok…” Elise accepted. “I just hope that life starts being nice to him…”

“Don’t worry, my dear. It will soon.”

To cut the conversation short, Marx pulled out his pocket watch. “It’s time for dinner, you three.”

“Shall we fetch Ryouma?” Leon asked. 

“… I told him that Father is expecting him. Knowing Ryouma, he’ll think he has no choice but to comply,” he answered darkly.

On their way to the dining hall in Clarkenstein, the four spotted Garon trudging from his room.

“H-Hello, Father,” Marx greeted. Camilla and Leon bowed their heads, Elise following their lead.

“Marx,” Garon replied. “Where is Ryouma?”

He gulped. “He’ll be with us shortly, Father. Do not worry.”

Garon humphed, as if worrying was a trivial thing for him to do. “Very well then. Remember what I told you earlier, Marx.” Garon gave a guttural, twisted laugh, and Marx's stomach dropped. He was immensely dreading the concubines and their children meeting Ryouma for the first time.

"... Yes, Father." The wicked king continued laughing as he stomped away, his metal boots clinking loudly on the tile floor. Marx turned to his siblings. "We should go," he sighed. 

~

The enormous royal dining table was usually occupied by Garon's "favorites"; that included whichever concubines he had his sights on, as well as the princes or princesses that caught his attention. Because of this, Marx, Camilla, and Leon would usually find themselves at the table, as well as their respective mothers. Tonight, however, the table seemed as if it was overflowing with all kinds of meats, vegetables, and deserts, and all but five of the seats were occupied, one of which had a booster seat for Elise. Marx and his three trustworthy siblings took four of the five seats which were located next to Garon's, who was sitting at the head of the table. 

Unfortunately, it meant that Camilla, Leon, and Elise's mothers sat at the opposite side, facing them. Patricia seemed to have gained herself the honor of sitting closest to Garon on her side, so she faced the crown prince. Leon and Camilla's mothers were beside her, fuming as they were engaged in a pseudo-friendly conversation.

"A pleasure to see you again, Prince Marx."

Marx restrained a scowl. "And you as well, Lady Patricia." 

She gave him an overly-sweet smile, narrowing her eyes so much she looked like she was squinting. "I thought the Hoshidan prince was supposed to be here? Everyone's waiting on him, you know."

Marx wasn't surprised at all that she paid her own daughter zero attention, and instead wanted to fixate on Ryouma. Such was the behavior of the wicked Nohrian concubines. "He will be here shortly, Lady Patricia. Most likely in a few-"

His explanation as cut off as the grand doors of the dining hall swung open, silencing everyone's conversations. Ryouma stood in the doorway, shoulders sagged and eyes red and puffy. He wordlessly slumped to the empty seat besides Marx as everyone's eyes were on him. Marx stealthily noticed how the children of the concubines at the end of the table were already glaring daggers at the Hoshidan with murderous intent evident in their eyes. He suppressed a defeated sigh.

Patricia had a bright look in her eyes as Garon's deep voice rumbled throughout the dining hall. "I'm so glad you could make it here,  _son_." His eyes were piercing Ryouma, whose gaze was downward. At the brunette's behavior towards Garon, many of the concubines were whispering between each other to fill the awkward air. 

"You better show your new father some respect," a purple-haired concubine spat at Ryouma. Camilla looked like she was ready to drive a knife down the woman's throat.

Ryouma said nothing at her words, so she continued. "My, how deplorable. The gracious king of Nohr has given you a new home and a new family, and you won't even pay him back with your attention? You should be disciplined," she said venomously. Marx, Camilla, and Leon instantly registered the word "disciplined" as killed, and they all grit their teeth.

"Priscilla, enough," Garon ordered. The lilac-haired woman's posture slightly deflated as she mumbled an excuse. Patricia shot her a dirty glare. "Ryouma will learn soon enough to show respect to me. These things take time," he said with an amused grin. The other concubines laughed at his words, while their ignored children at the end of the table were fuming. "Now, let us eat."

The tension within the dining hall was suffocating as the courtesans conversed amongst each other. Marx's head was bowed as he looked at Ryouma from his peripheral vision. He was glaring at the unused knife sitting besides Patricia's plate, and Marx was grateful that Garon had enough foresight to only give Ryouma a fork and a spoon.

"Aww, sweetie, do you need help with that?" A woman with long, wavy auburn hair and maroon eyes asked. Leon shot her a bewildered glare.

"This isn't the first time he's been to Nohr, Mother. He knows how to use silverware," he stated backhandedly.

"I wasn't talking to you." Her ice cold words gave him the urge to shrink within his seat, but he remained straight-backed. 

Ryouma ignored her, and picked up the fork. In front of him was just a simple, plain salad. He stabbed the lettuce with his fork sharply, letting it rest there for a moment to send the woman his message.

She jumped slightly, before regaining herself. "I see," she muttered sweetly. "You're the type of man that wants to save a woman trouble. How adorable," she giggled, and everyone could sense the animosity coming from the other courtesans.

Ryouma raised the fork to his mouth and bit off the salad. When he pulled it out of his mouth, Marx noticed a dent in it that he was sure wasn't there before.

Patricia leaned back in her seat to gaze at the end of the table. The concubines that couldn't see the captive prince from their position were scowling with rage, while their children were doing the same. She leaned back forward, an accomplished grin on her face. 

"I've been wondering for a while, Your Majesty," she started, and Garon grunted. "Exactly why did you kill the king of Hoshido and kidnap his son? Surely Nohr and Hoshido were close allies before, right?"

Ryouma didn't move, didn't breath. Either Garon could give a false answer, or he would tell the truth. Marx, Camilla, and Leon stifled their breaths. 

A maniacal grin appeared on the king's face. "To conquer them."

Patricia's eyes widened, but a grin was still on her face. Ryouma finally glared at Garon, observing every twitch of his face as he continued. "What Nohr needs the most is conquest. And without their king or high prince, they cannot defend themselves in the war I have declared." 

The loud clatter of silverware caught everyone's attention as Ryouma hastily stood up. "You're lying! Hoshido would never fall so easily!"

Garon laughed heinously. "What makes you think that, boy? Sumeragi isn't there to protect Hoshido anymore. I already have a sizable army marching onto its border, and a letter has been sent to Queen Mikoto with a... Thoughtful souvenir that came from her own son." He roared with a twisted glee.

Souvenir? It could only mean one thing, and Ryouma could feel his knees buckle. He grabbed on to the table for support. "No... You're lying... You can't do this... Don't do this... You can do anything to me, but not Hoshido..."

"You don't have the power to stop me. And you will be aiding me in this war, whether you like it or not."

Now Marx stood up, and most of the concubines gasped in feigned surprise. "Father, this is madness! Everything you've been doing is utter madness!" He looked around, and only Leon and Camilla were supporting him. Elise wasn't understanding anything, and everyone else's eyes contained disgust. Ryouma was glaring at him quite intensely, and Garon looked like he was about to kill him right then and there. He felt himself falter and want to run away, but he continued for the sake of the ones he cared for. "What has been going on with you lately? E-Ever since Mother died, you've been... Y-You have all these concubines making children and forcing them to kill each other! And you don't care! And now you want to conquer Hoshido?! The r-real King Garon, the real _Father,_  would never do this! H-He would never... He would never be some sick, bloodthirsty monster that kills innocent people and forces other innocent people _to_ kill!"

The sharp sound of a heavily-gauntleted hand meeting soft skin caused even Ryouma to wince. Marx yelped and crashed to the floor, his hand speedily becoming bloodied as he shakily tried to cover the wound on his cheek. Leon and Camilla instantly rushed to his side, and Elise began to wail at all the ensuing chaos.

"You have shown your loyalty and your worth to me, Marx. I have given you chance after chance, and what you have given me in return is lower than dirt! You have dared to defy me, and you will suffer the consequences for it!" Garon's axe, Bölverk, appeared within his hand in a flash, and he raised it up like an executioner would. Marx sharply gasped as his eyes widened with shock and fear, tears welling up within them. He couldn't move.

Ryouma felt something within him shift as he gazed upon the pitiful crown prince.

With a speed that even made Ryouma dizzy, he dashed in front of Marx to block Garon's attack just as he was about to lower his axe onto him. He could feel a wobbly arm try to push against his back, most likely Marx's, and Ryouma winced. Marx truly wanted to protect him, Ryouma finally realized, and he didn't know what compelled him to try and take a hit for the Nohrian in return.

He braced himself for the harsh impact, but Garon froze. Ryouma opened his eyes that he hadn't realized he squinted shut, and looked up to see Garon's hand and Bölverk covered in a bubble like substance, rendering him completely immobile.

"With all due respect, King Garon, your actions will not bring good fortune upon you," an unknown person voiced, and Ryouma turned his head to see a man with chest-lenght, wavy, black hair, and a rather revealing outfit saunter into the dining hall, his feather cape bouncing behind him.

"Iago," Garon growled. "What are you doing?!"

"If I may be so bold," Iago started, and Garon's glare demanded an explanation. "While Prince Marx has shown his utmost disloyalty to you, which should no doubt be punished, I believe that this is the fault of Prince Ryouma."

"Explain."

"With pleasure. Prince Marx is very, very weak, frail, and lacks the brutality that any Nohrian prince should have. He has a vulnerable heart that can easily be swayed, and therefore, Prince Ryouma has used that aspect of him to his advantage. They used to be best friends, as Your Majesty knows, and Prince Ryouma has used that fact to... Brainwash him, if you will. Despite this, Prince Marx has quite the incredible surplus of potential, and it would be an incredible waste to kill him so quickly."

"Interesting observation, Iago." The magic substance faded from Garon and his weapon as he turned his eyes to Ryouma and Marx, who still had blood streaming from his wound on his cheek. "Marx is incredibly lighthearted, as you have said. What do you say I should do about this?" 

Iago's raven-like red eyes studied the twelve-year old, giving him chills. "If we don't want Prince Ryouma to influence him, they must be separated. We should move the Hoshidan out of the castle."

Marx's stomach dropped. To where? There was nowhere Ryouma could go that could offer suitable protection for him. "I agree," Garon uttered before grabbing Marx and Ryoumas arms in vice-like holds, uncaring of the pain he was inflicting onto them. He forced them up, practically dragging them over to Iago. "Take Marx to the throne room," he ordered. "I will be there shortly to speak with him. And take the Hoshidan dog back to his room. Make sure he can't escape."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Iago nodded, taking Ryouma and Marx's arms from Garon's hold. "Come with me, you two." He forcefully led them away, and the whole dining hall stayed silent until the three were gone.

Leon and Camilla scrambled back to their respective seats, while Garon sauntered to his own. "We shall continue our dinner. I was not expecting to have my sons act out in such a detestable manner, but they _will_ know not to do it again," he muttered under his breath, but the statement was heard by most.

As dinner continued, no one dared to say a word out loud. Not even the concubines, who were usually so ready to fill the air with their speech. Leon nudged Camilla's foot from under the table, and she turned to look at him.

"I'm worried, Camilla. I don't want anything to happen to Marx, or Ryouma." 

She gave him a small, bittersweet smile as she rested her hand on top of his. "I know. But Marx does have strength, and that strength is all of us believing in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed. im a little self conscious of my writing, so if you have anything to say about it, please drop by in the comments. otherwise, if youre ok with it, kudos are appreciated!
> 
> next chapter: hoshido and nohr pov!


	6. Imbue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long to crank out, but here it is! just a note before reading, it had been almost three days since ryouma has been in nohr (in the last chapter, it was the night of the second day). in this chapter, however, because it is the hoshidan point of view, it has been one day since he has been gone. it isnt because of timezones, its just the way im writing the story :'D 
> 
> fear not! by the chapter after the next (next chapter will be nohr pov) hoshido will be caught up with nohr on how many days have passed. thanks for understanding! and here is the chapter.

Mikoto’s eyes slowly fluttered open, the feeling of something being amiss the cause of her awakening. Stealthily slipping her arms away from her children, she slowly sat up, forcing the sleepiness out of her system. Her back was incredibly sore, and it seemed as if no part of her body wanted to cooperate with her.

The room was submerged in a tranquil dark blue, and upon looking out the window to the left of her, Mikoto noticed that dawn had barely broken. She turned her head to look back at her children, and found the cause of her awakening.

Hinoka was nowhere to be found. 

The rest of her children were all sleeping with hard, pain-stricken faces. Mikoto quickly turned away from the sight, unable to gaze upon her children’s anguish.

It was too painful for her to think that two nights ago was the last time she would ever sleep with her husband and all of her children within arm’s reach. There was a warmth that was missing from the futon, a warmth that only Sumeragi could offer. And for her beloved children, there was no doubt that they were longing for the comfort that Ryouma’s presence offered as their oldest sibling.

Mikoto felt shivers whenever she thought of Ryouma’s fate. It was a certainty that her dear husband was no longer of their world, which brought her ultimate anguish. And yet, a bittersweet feeling of relief swept her at the same time _because_ of that certainty. Mikoto was absolutely clueless on her son’s state. He could’ve been killed as soon as he arrived at Nohr, and the letter that Garon sent was simply a ruse for Hoshido to comply to his sick wish for conquest. Or he could be enduring torture by Garon at this very moment; being hurt endlessly, having his memories of Hoshido and his family erased, other possible things that Mikoto didn’t want to imagine.

Nausea washed over her. And if Ryouma was alive after all, then he was alone. He had no one in Nohr to confide in that hadn’t desolated his trust. Mikoto knew her oldest child was strong, but he was only twelve. This wasn’t something he could handle by himself, and Mikoto could feel her stomach wrench and turn with the urge to bring him home and wrap him in the safety of his family. 

She felt a particular wetness course her cheeks, and she shook her head. Mikoto wiped her eyes and tried to calm herself as quietly as she could, despite the task being almost impossible.

The futon sheets rustled behind her, and she internally sighed. One of her children had awoken.

“… Mama?” A very hesitant, hushed voice met her ears. It was Takumi.

Mikoto did not respond vocally, but she did turn to look at him. Takumi slowly crawled to her side, and she welcomed him with an open arm. He cuddled into her embrace, leaning his head against her bosom. She used the hand that was around him to rub his back comfortingly.

“I can’t sleep, Mama. I keep having nightmares about…” Takumi’s whispered words trailed off as his voice began to tremble. Mikoto tightened her hold around him as he whimpered into her chest.

“Oh, Takumi…” Mikoto whispered. She wondered what words existed that could possibly offer a shred of solace to her son.

“… I want Papa and Brother back,” Takumi sobbed. “I-I miss P-Papa’s warm hands. I miss B-Brother’s confidence…”

Mikoto began to pat Takumi’s back as coughs interrupted his fit. “It’s not fair, Mama. W-What did we do to deserve this? What did Papa and Ryouma do?!”

“We have done nothing, Takumi,” she reassured. Even as Mikoto spoke those words, she found it hard to believe them herself. “And they have done nothing, as well. Nothing at all…”

Takumi’s head rose from its position on her chest. Despite his puffy, red eyes, he gazed into his mother’s own with ferocity. “The Nohrians… I hate them. They took our family away and betrayed us. I’ll fight them for Father and Big Brother’s sake.”

Mkoto’s eyes widened. “Takumi, please… I won’t have you fighting while you’re so young. And even if you were older, it wouldn’t help anything…”

A new anger coated his eyes, and Mikoto felt the strong sense that it was directed towards her. “Ryouma could still be alive. If no one’s gonna try to get him back, then I will! And you can’t stop me, Mother!” He shoved himself away from her and stormed out of the room before Mikoto could stop him.

The queen’s stature fell, and she sighed defeatedly. First Hinoka, and now Takumi? How was she going to stop her children from what they were falling into?

Not long after Takumi left, Azura and Kamui arose from their sleep. Their eyes were red and puffy as well, with crestfallen gazes, sagging postures, and hair absolute messes. Mikoto wished she didn’t need to see her two daughters so defeated.

Kamui was the first to crawl to her. “Mother,” she greeted as she rested her head on Mikoto’s shoulder. Mikoto brought an arm around her daughter, and soon around Azura when she crawled to the opposite side of her.

“Azura, Kamui,” Mikoto started, to which her daughters looked up at her. “Although you were just babies, you both lost your mothers through childbirth.” They nodded. “You never knew your fathers, either, since they didn’t want to take custody of you two.”  This wasn’t news to Kamui or Azura, for Mikoto had made sure to tell them when they were still quite young.

“While it is very unfortunate, you two understand, more than your other siblings, how it feels to lose family.”

Mikoto was met with silence, but she knew Kamui and Azura listened to her words well.

“… I wish it wasn’t that way, Mother,” Kamui muttered after a while. “I wish we didn’t have some of us having lost more family than others. I wish we didn’t have to lose family at all.”

“I know, darling, but it’s not something we can control. Overcoming losses is the only thing we can do,” Mikoto sighed defeatedly.

“… We can’t do that, Mother,” Azura spoke up. “We lost Father and Ryouma so quickly, and we weren’t even able to say goodbye to them…” Her soft voice wavered, and she brought a hand up to wipe her eyes.

Kamui nodded, her own eyes becoming watery. “How do you accept losing someone you’ve become so close and attached to?”

Mikoto’s brows creased. “It takes time, my daughters. That is the most important part of healing. Time, and support from people that understand what you’re going through.”

Kamui and Azura didn’t respond, which gave Mikoto a weird feeling. Did her words come off as insensitive?

“I’m sorry, you two,” Mikoto whispered. “I just don’t want you to live the rest of your lives in grief.”

Her daughter’s snuggled closer to her, seemingly accepting her apology. “We understand,” Kamui replied quietly. “It’s just…”

“…difficult,” Azura finished. 

Mikoto sighed softly. This all happened too quickly, and her children were too young to handle it. Even she didn’t know how to relieve her children of their anguish, and she surely didn’t know what to say or do to make them feel better. 

The three of them sat in silence for a long moment, before Kamui spoke again. “Sakura’s still sleeping, but where are Hinoka and Takumi?”

Mikoto restrained a grimace. “Hinoka was gone even before I woke up, and Takumi stormed off just before you two arose.”

Azura hummed. “We should try to find them.” 

Mikoto nodded and proceeded to stand up, Kamui and Azura following after. She knelt down to gather Sakura in her arms, who still seemed to be in a deep sleep.

Kamui walked ahead to slide open the shoji door, patiently waiting for Azura and Mikoto to exit the room. Once they were standing in the hallway, Mikoto turned to face them both again.

“I greatly appreciate your decision to accompany me,” she started, to which Azura and Kamui grinned. “But please don’t feel pressured to. I would understand completely if you wanted some time alone to yourselves.”

Azura softly shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to, not yet at least. You deserve the same company that you’ve given us.”

“Yeah,” Kamui agreed. “You’re facing the toughest part of this situation. It’s the least we could do to help you out.”

Mikoto’s expression relaxed at their words, and she let her shoulders slightly fall.  She wondered how she ever deserved such sweet and caring daughters. “Come here, you two,” she said, holding out her arms. Azura and Kamui happily indulged Mikoto with an embrace.

“Even though you two are hurting so much, you’re putting on such brave faces. I couldn’t be more proud and envious of you two.” Mikoto allowed Azura and Kamui to separate from her. “Now, how about you change clothes and get ready? I’ll be in the throne room waiting for you.” 

“Ok, Mother,” the two girls said simultaneously before proceeding to their own rooms. 

Mikoto suppressed a sigh as they left. She completely understood the reasons why Hinoka and Takumi were acting out, but she wished that they could act more like Kamui and Azura in that they were less reckless and more levelheaded and rational.  But that was a cruel thing for her to ask of them at this time, and she questioned herself for even thinking such a thought. Perhaps her grief was altering the way she thought of her kids, and she felt incredibly ashamed of that.

She hadn’t realized her feet were carrying her to the throne room as she pondered those thoughts, nor did she realize that she was about to collide with Yukimura on the way there.

“Oh, Yukimura. I didn’t see you there. Where are you going so early in the morning?”

Yukimura jumped when he heard Mikoto’s voice, and he quickly tried to compose himself, adjusting his glasses and straightening his clothes. “Lady Mikoto? I did not realize you would be up so early… is everything well? Is something wrong with Lady Sakura?” 

“We’re fine, Yukimura. I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to leave Sakura alone.” Mikoto saw the hesitancy and compassion within the tactician’s eyes, and she offered him a bittersweet smile.  “Please, don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“With all due respect, Lady Mikoto… It’s completely acceptable for you to rely on others during such challenging times. All of Hoshido is and will always be on your side.”

“Yukimura, I’m not the only one in pain. You are also affected by this. Not to mention our soldiers, our castle staff, our retainers, my children… we’re all grieving. Soon the citizens will be too once we tell them. It’s not just me that’s having a difficult time. And now that Sumeragi is gone,” she sighed, feeling her breath hitch at pronouncing her husband’s name, “It’s my responsibility to take care of this kingdom, and I can’t just sit back and wallow in despair. I have to keep persevering for everyone’s sake.”

A long silence followed as the words sunk within Yukimura. “… I understand, Lady Mikoto. I would just be highly distressed if something were to happen to you because you are carrying so much stress all by yourself.”

Despie the reasonable concern that he was expressing, Mikoto could only grin at Yukimura’s words. He was ever the worrywart. “Have faith in me, Yukimura. I will be relying on you and many others.”

At that statement, Yukimura’s expression lifted greatly, but his eyes still contained a deep-set sadness. “That relieves me more than you could imagine, Lady Mikoto.”

She smiled, but still noticed the depressed glint in his eyes. “Please, don’t forget about yourself as well. You were also attached to Sumeragi and Ryouma, and I know how much this is affecting you too.”

He frowned. “I cannot afford the luxury to grieve. There is still so much that requires my attention-“

“Yukimura, stop putting your feelings aside as if they held no importance. That is what I wish for the most from you.” She couldn’t help but speak in an exasperated tone; he was always so selfless to the point that it even harmed him.

It seemed to work, because his frown only increased. “…If that is what you wish for, Lady Mikoto, then I must only oblige.”

She smiled brightly. “Thank you, Yukimura. You’re just as important to me as everyone else, you know.”  He gave her a bashful smile in response, but Mikoto’s own grin faded when she felt a sleeping Sakura fidget in her arms. 

“That reminds me…” she started, to which Yukimura frowned once more, “When I woke up, Hinoka was already gone, and Takumi stormed off when we were speaking. Azura and Kamui have agreed to help me find them, but do you have any idea where they could be?”

“Hmm… I have not seen Lady Hinoka nor Lord Takumi this morning. Forgive me, Lady Mikoto. Perhaps I could send a few ninja to find them?”

“That won’t be necessary. If they were to be successful in their search, it would just make Takumi and Hinoka feel worse.” Mikoto’s gaze became downcast at the thought, but she shoved it aside. “Could you notify everyone that they’re taking a week off from work?”

“Absolutely, Lady Mikoto,” he said without hesitation.

“That includes you, too,” Mikoto added, causing Yukimura to stutter. The man really needed a break, she thought. His eyes looked so dark and his skin was extra pale.

With that, she rid herself of his presence, proceeding to open the throne room door. It was only after Yukimura left that Mikoto realized he never answered her original question of what he was doing up so early, but she let it slide with a slight shrug.

When the doors swung open, Mikoto was greeted with yet another person. It was Suzukaze this time, and he almost looked lost, with the way his feet made him waltz around the room. Or perhaps he was looking for something?

“Suzukaze,” she announced, and she noticed the poorly-constrained jolt he made. Obviously embarrassed to have been caught, the green-haired ninja turned to face her.

“Lady Mikoto? It is unusual to see you awake so early,” he replied, but he seemed to understand the reason why, judging from the tone of his voice.

“Are you and Yukimura always awake before me?” she asked, offering a small chuckle.

“Well,” Suzukaze started, sporting his own small grin, “Lord Yukimura and I always try to be diligent.” Suddenly, his grin vanished as he spoke his next words. “Now more than ever, we have to be diligent… Lady, Mikoto, I would like to offer my sincerest condolences. If it hadn’t been for my failure, Lord Sumeragi and Lord Ryouma could still be here with you…”

“Kaze… Enough,” she said strictly. “From what I know, Garon launched an ambush on them. There was no way you could’ve expected that.”

“But I should’ve been able to protect them,” he argued.

“I know my husband very well, Kaze. He was lax and requested for him and Ryouma to be unaccompanied when they spoke to Garon, correct?” Mikoto was becoming more annoyed by the second. Why was everyone so irrationally hard on themselves? 

Suzukaze was rendered speechless at her claim, so she continued. “Ninja are always supposed to lurk in the shadows of their masters, but he requested you not to do so. So, what could you have done to change the situation?”

The ninja looked down. “…Nothing, Lady Mikoto.”

“Precisely. So please, stop putting the blame on yourself. It would help me, everyone else, and yourself as well.”

“…As you wish, Lady Mikoto.”

“Excellent,” Mikoto announced, a lighter tone accompanying her voice. “Now, what brings you here in the throne room?”

Suzukaze shuffled on his feet. “I cannot find Saizo, milady. He was with me last night, but now he is nowhere to be found. I have tried searching almost every place in the castle where he could be lurking, but he hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Hmm,” Mikoto crooned. Now a third person was missing. “Have you checked the training grounds?”

Suddenly, Suzukaze’s eyes lit up, an epiphany hitting him. “Of course! Why haven’t I tried the training grounds yet…”

Mikoto smiled. “Once Azura and Kamui arrive here, we can look for him together. And before you argue about that, it would also help us find Takumi and Hinoka.”

“Lady Hinoka and Lord Takumi are gone as well? I am sorry for all the stress we are putting on you, Lady Mikoto.”

Before she could reply, the doors of the throne room swung open, revealing Kamui and Azura tidied and ready to leave. However, there was still a dark look hidden in their eyes.

“I wasn’t expecting you here, Kaze,” Azura voiced. “Are you alright?”

Mikoto noticed the slight dusting of pink on Suzukaze’s cheeks, and she held back a giggle. “Y-Yes, milady,” he mustered, clearing his throat, before composing himself. “I should be asking the same of you, however.”

Azura frowned. “Please, don’t worry. I’ll manage.” 

Ever so selfless, the other three in the room thought.

“Azura, Kamui,” Mikoto announced, “We’re heading for the training grounds. Kaze and I figured that is where Hinoka and Takumi are most likely at, as well as Saizo.”

“Saizo’s missing too?” Kamui mumbled.

Suzukaze nodded to her before proceeding ahead of them to open the doors. The three females walked with haste, striding to the training grounds as if there wasn’t a moment to lose.

It took less than five minutes for the four to arrive. The grounds themselves were enormous; the entire Hoshidan army, from the ninja to pegasus knights, utilized the space it offered. 

Behind the grand structure that was Castle Shirasagi lied the training grounds, and behind that was an impressive forest. Searching the entire training space was already a daunting task, but the possibility of having to scavenge the forest as well made it seem impossible.

The unmistakeable sound of flapping wings snapped Mikoto back to attention, and she looked up to see a certain red-haired teenager mounted on a pristine, white pegasus. When he spotted her, he immediately flew downward, the pegasus trotting to stand in front of her and her entourage.

“Lady Mikoto? What brings you here?” he asked, dismounting his stead. He ran his hand over its milky coat, and it neighed with appreciation before he stepped away.

“Many others were awake before me, but I could definitely expect you to be training as soon as possible, Tsubaki,” she chuckled, to which Tsubaki responded with a proud laugh. However, he stopped as soon as Mikoto did. “As for why I am here… Takumi, Hinoka, and Saizo have ran away.”

“They’re missing?! This is truly a predicament…” Tsubaki stayed silent for a while as he absorbed the information. “Come to think of it, usually at this time of the day Prince Ryouma and King Sumeragi are here as well, but I haven’t seen them either.”

Mikoto, Suzukaze, Kamui, and Azura’s stomachs al dropped at Tsubaki’s words, the realization that no one outside of the royal family and their close advisors had known about Sumeragi and Ryouma’s whereabouts. It was best for them to focus on the present, lest their grief consume them, but Tsubaki’s mention of their lost ones had nullified their efforts. 

“… Are the high prince and king safe, milady?” Tsubaki asked quietly, almost as if he was afraid to ask the innocent question.

Mikoto felt a lump build in her throat, but she forced it away and mustered the strength to speak. “… We will discuss them later, Tsubaki. With the entire army, for that matter…” She added that last part under her breath, only deepening Tsubaki’s concern.

“Lady Mikoto, forgive me if I have trespassed my position. How could I possibly make this up to you?”

The last thing Mikoto wanted right now was to have to deal with Tsubaki’s self-loathing over something so minuscule compared to what was going on in the rest of the world. “Stop beating yourself up, please. Today is not the time, Tsubaki…” The red-head in name shrunk within himself, but Mikoto placed her hand on his shoulder. “If you’re worried about making it up to me, could you survey the forest for any signs?”

Tsubaki’s eyes shone, immediately registering her task as a way to atone for something he made much bigger than it needed to be. “Of course! I would be honored to appease any fear or frustration you bear.”

“I appreciate it, Tsubaki. If you find them, call out to Kaze. Then he will lead us to wherever you found anything. Is that clear?”

“Clear as my dear Sora’s coat!” The pegasus neighed in appreciation at its master’s mention, and Tsubaki ran his hand over its hair.

“Good luck, Tsubaki!” Kamui announced as Azura waved him off. Tsubaki smiled at the two young girls before mounting his steed.

“Anything for my beloved princesses of Hoshido,” he claimed, to which Kamui blushed. Mikoto raised an eyebrow at the scene. “Here I go!” Sora neighed once more before flapping its great wings to take off.

As the young knight gradually disappeared into the distance, Suzukaze turned to Mikoto and her daughter. “I hope he finds them soon,” he sighed. “There’s still much we have to do, and we can’t afford to have anyone else gone…”

Mikoto slowly nodded, the mood between the three becoming very solemn and depressing. It was refreshing for them to have someone like Tsubaki around during such a hard time, simply because he was ignorant of what had happened.

That sole fact made Mikoto feel the need to change things very soon. It was wrong for her to revel in her soldiers’ ignorance and absorb their cheerful attitudes when they deserved to not remain in the dark and know what was making their queen so depressed. They deserved to know what had happened to their beloved king and high prince. They deserved to know about Hoshido’s new relationship with Nohr. And yet, informing her people of what they were blind of would inflict a great amount of pain upon them. 

But even if she had a choice, there is no doubt that some at the royal square had already seen their king’s absence. 

Tomorrow, Mikoto decided, she would tell her people the truth.

 

~

“Do you see anything, Sora?” Tsubaki inquired as he soared high above the trees. The trees themselves were quite still, with only the rustling of birds catching their attention.

 

_This will prove to be very hard, if Lady Hinoka, Lord Takumi, and Saizo are even in this forest to begin with._

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded under them, and Sora neighed in distress, flapping his wings frantically.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” the sky knight cooed. “It’s probably who we’re looking for! Let’s try to find a landing spot within the trees.”

Tsubaki drew in Sora’s reins, motioning for it to fly slower and prepare for landing. There was a small clearing that they could land in not far from where they heard the crash.

Once they landed, Tsubaki wasted no time in jumping off of his pegasus. He called Suzukaze’s name, and waited for a few seconds before the signature cloud of smoke appeared before him, revealing the green-haired ninja.

“Did you hear that loud sound?” Tsubaki asked, and Suzukaze nodded. “I’m pretty sure it’s them. It wasn’t far from the entrance to the forest.”

“Good work, Tsubaki. Allow me to go back and alert Lady Mikoto of this. We should be back here in a few minutes, considering the short distance.”

“Great,” Tsubaki sighed, a relieved smile gracing his handsome face. “This was much easier than I expected it to be.”

“Well, we mustn’t become lax. There is a  possibility that it isn’t who we’re looking for.”

Leave it to Suzukaze to ruin the mood with his practical mindset, Tsubaki thought. “fIne. But don’t tell me you can’t sense your brother here. And look at Sora. He’s become all restless, like he usually does when Saizo is near.” He gestured to his pegasus, who was fidgeting and moving his wings. “Besides, if Saizo is here, than Lady Hinoka and Lord Takumi could be here too…”

“Alright, alright. I’ll go back and tell Lady Mikoto that we found Saizo,” Suzukaze admitted. He gave Tsubaki one last look before preparing to disappear, but the red-head called him out before he could.

“Wait! About Lady Mikoto…” Tsubaki trailed off, and Suzukaze already knew what he was going to ask. “Do you know why she seems so down? Not just her, but Ladies Azura and Kamui as well. I get the feeling that it’s not just because Lady Hinoka and Lord Takumi are missing…”

Suzukaze stood silently for quite a while, and Tsubaki was starting to regret his decision to ask about it. Just when he was about to tell him to forget it, the ninja spoke up.

“I’m sorry, Tsubaki, but Lady Mikoto only wants a select few to know right now. She will tell all of Hoshido something very important soon.”

Tsubaki’s head hung low.

“Lady Mikoto doesn’t distrust you, it’s just… never mind. I’m sorry, but we’ve no time to waste. I must report back to Lady Mikoto. A bomb of smoke appeared and he was gone the next second, leaving Tsubaki alone in the clearing.

The knight sighed, turning to his beloved steed. He held a hand near its head, and it nuzzled into his touch. “It’s okay,” he said, more to himself than his pegasus. “Everyone is acting so strange, and I hate not being in the know. To be honest, I’m kind of scared of the reason why, but we should find out soon.”

~

Kamui jumped when a strong puff of smoke appeared right next to her. she could feel Azura’s amused gaze on her, and she huffed in annoyance. 

“I thought you would be used to that by now,” Azura teased, before turning to Suzukaze, who emerged out of the smoke. “Anything?” she asked.

“Yes,” Suzukaze replied. “Tsubaki and I heard a crash within the trees, quite close to where we are now. I also sensed Saizo’s presence near where it sounded when I met up with Tsubaki, so I can assure you we have found him. However, the same cannot be said for Lady Hinoka and Lord Takumi.”

Mikoto contemplated the information. Even if they found Saizo, there was a chance that her daughter and son were could not be found. “Could you lead the way for us?”

“Of course,” he answered. “I told Tsubaki it would take us a few minutes. Either way, we must be hasty, lest Saizo escapes.”

The four crossed through the long terrain of grass that lead into the forest. To make sure that their target wouldn’t run away, they didn’t say anything to each other, and made sure to keep their footsteps light. Azura and Kamui shared concerned glances at each other, and Mikoto wished she could appease their worry with certainty that they would find their brother and sister. 

Mikoto felt Sakura fidget in her arms, and she held back a sigh. If she were to start making noise now…

She could only resort to rocking the baby princess back and forth in her arms, using the hand that was near her head to smooth out her hair.

The forest itself was, for the most part, clear of stray branches and obstacles, so it was easy to traverse and hard to make a lot of noise. It wasn’t a surprise at all when Suzukaze said they were almost there.

As they continued walking, Mikoto, Kamui, and Azura could all feel their stomachs dance in anticipation. To lose two more members of their family so quickly would, without a doubt, snap them. It had only been a day since they had lost Sumeragi and Ryouma, but to them, it felt like a dragging week of pain.

Suddenly, to the right of them, there was a distinct rustling sound. They all stopped abruptly, and Suzukaze moved to stand in front of them. There was a bush, and its leaves jostled and tousled. They all waited with hushed breaths. Suzukaze’s eyes squinted.

What met his harsh gaze was a small squirrel, its tail curled with inquisition as its beady eyes looked up at him with a soft innocence.

Suzukaze slowly lowered his stance, and the other three’s shoulders relaxed. Just when they were about to move on, Suzukaze heard a fast whistle, and in the blink of an eye, the squirrel fell to its side, an arrow protruding from its chest.

Kamui shrieked, while Azura gasped, subconsciously gravitating towards Mikoto and Suzukaze’s sides. Mikoto grabbed both of their hands in her own free one, looking up at Suzukaze worriedly. Suzukaze glanced down at the squirrel.

“It’s a Hoshidan arrow, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a Nohrian that shot it. And Saizo never practices with bows… Tsubaki lies to the northeast of here. Just keep going in that direction, and you will find him very soon. He will protect you while I find our attacker!” Without another moment for argument, Saizo drew his shuriken and dashed off.

Mikoto looked down and saw Sakura wide awake, tears welling up in her eyes. She rocked her back and forth again as she turned to Azura and Kamui. “We must hurry. We don’t know who fired that arrow; it’s dangerous to stay here.” 

“Ok,” they said in unison, clutching tight onto Mikoto’s hand.

“I hope Tsubaki is okay,” Kamui sighed. “What if he was Nohrian? And what if…”

“Kamui, please don’t worry. If you keep worrying about the dark side of things, you will drive yourself insane. I know it has been extremely hard for you two, but we can only hope that the people we have now are safe. Right?” Mikoto smiled at her two daughters, and they immediately felt better at her mother’s reassuring words.

“Alright… I’m sorry, Mother…” Kamui sighed.

“Don’t stress about it. Now, we must hurry to Tsubaki.”

There was nothing left for the three of them to say as they made their way to the sky knight. Sakura kept her soft wailing at a small volume, but Mikoto kept trying to hush her down. If only her husband were here, then he could calm Sakura down in the blink of an eye…

A clearing came into their sight, and they saw Sora standing close by Tsubaki. Kamui and Azura ran up to him first, hastily explaining the situation before Mikoto had the chance to.

“An unknown archer… Why would something like this happen? There is never an archer in the forest at these times…”

Mikoto, Azura, and Kamui grimaced at Tsubaki. They had completely forgotten that Tsubaki wasn’t aware of the possibility that it was a Nohrian who shot that arrow.

“Maybe Saizo knows about this…?”

“I believe he does,” Azura answered, easing away awkwardness from before. “Nothing gets past him.”

“Always well spoken, milady,” Tsubaki agreed. His smile faded, however, when he noticed Mikoto and Sakura, and the trouble she was having in calming Sakura down.

“Shall I watch over Lady Sakura, milady? I believe you need a break,” he offered. Mikoto grinned, reaching Sakura out to him. The baby snuggled up to him, its crying gradually calming down. Mikoto felt jealous at the sight, but she thanked him nonetheless.

Footsteps could be heard from the west soon after Sakura was passed onto Tsubaki, and they all tensed up. Tsubaki went to stand in front of them all, hoisting his naginata up in a defensive stance.

“Don’t worry, it’s me, Kaze,” a voice sounded, and Tsubaki slightly lowered his weapon. He saw the ninja come into sight, and he put his weapon down. However, with Suzukaze were two distinct children, one with long, silver hair and a bow in his hand, the other with short, fiery red hair and a naginata in hers.

“Lady Hinoka and Lord Takumi?” Tsubaki questioned, prompting Mikoto, Azura, and Kamui to share relieved glances at each other. “And Saizo,” he added, after spotting the red-haired ninja behind his twin.

“Let go of me, Kaze.” Takumi whined, harshly shrugging away from the ninjas hold on his shoulder. Hinoka did the same, but it seemed as if they had no intent in returning to their mother and sisters’ sides, with they way that they angrily avoided their eyes.

“Takumi, Hinoka! I’m so glad you’re okay!” Kamui speedily rushed to Takumi and Hinoka, opening her arms for a hug, but they dodged her attempt.

“Why did you two run away?” Azura asked, her golden eyes staring accusingly at Takumi and Hinoka. 

At Azura’s question and glare, Hinoka was set off. “Don’t question me like I’m your little sister! We ran away because we’re training to get Father and Big Brother back. Unlike you and Kamui, who want to sit around and just wish that they were back!”

Azura and Kamui visibly flinched, shock and hurt filling their eyes. Tsubaki gasped at the news. Mikoto stepped up to the four of them.

“Hinoka, you’re setting a bad example. Ryouma’s gone… and now it’s your job to be the eldest-“

“Really? Really, Mother?! How could you say that? How could you tell me that like Ryouma doesn’t even matter anymore? He’s not here with us anymore, so you think I’m just taking his spot as the eldest?! Obviously, you don’t care about him or Father, since you told us not to try and fight!”

Mikoto was taken aback, a gasp escaping her lips. She couldn’t even feel anger at her daughter’s words, even if she tried. She was just baffled and shocked that she thought she didn’t care about her own son and husband.

“Hinoka! How could you say that?!” Kamui cried, stomping over to stand in front of her older sister. “She’s trying to protect you! Do you realize how much stress she’s under? She’s trying her best to figure out what stance Hoshido will take now, but she had to go out of her way to find you and Takumi! Could you at least try to be more considerate?!”

“Could you and Azura try to be more considerate of _Father and Ryouma?_!” Takumi intervened, glaring at Kamui and Azura. “He’s dead. Father is dead. And we don’t know if Ryouma is, but you three, with your reluctance to take action and try to fight, are completely deleting him out of the equation and moving on! _That’s_ being inconsiderate!” 

Suzukaze grimaced, feeling that he should stop this right now. He glanced over at Tsubaki, who was utterly shook from what he was hearing, and then at Mikoto, and decided to not interfere. It wasn’t his place.

“Takumi, I told you that fighting wouldn’t help anything. You’re only seven. Even if you and Hinoka trained now, there’s no way you could take Nohr on all by yourself.”

“Then lend me the Hoshidan army.”

“It’s not that easy, Takumi-“

“Saizo has already said that he would support us with whatever HInoka and I have decided.”

Mikoto glanced at Saizo, who stepped into view. “Saizo… You have always been tasked with protecting my children, but saying that you would support whatever decision Takumi and Hinoka would make is…”

Saizo frowned. “It is my duty to follow the orders of any Hoshidan royal. You are the queen of Hoshido, therefore, I would follow any order you give me over a princess or prince.”

Despite his callous words, Mikoto felt a little relief. At least Saizo was still willing to follower her.

“However,” he started, and Mikoto’s hopes fell. “I must hone my skiills because of Lord Ryouma’s kidnapping. I am not disregarding your words, Lady Mikoto, but I share Lord Takumi and Lady Hinoka’s sentiment in that I must train harder for his sake.”

“See?” Hinoka shouted. “This is why I left you, Mother. We are becoming strong to fight Nohr.”

“That’s not what Saizo just-“

“Shut up, Azura!” she snapped. “You and Kamui and Mother didn’t even consider picking up weapons to fight. How are we going to get Ryouma back if we don’t fight Nohr ourselves? If you really cared, you wouldn’t just leave the work to the Hoshidan army. Same goes for you, Mother. Father was the best samurai this world has ever known. What do you do? What are you going to do?!”

Before Mikoto could respond, Azura stepped up again, a fire burning in her eyes. “Stop saying we don’t care, Hinoka!” She screamed. “We’re trying to plan out our situation, instead of just picking up weapons to charge into Nohr for Ryouma when he could already be dead!”

Hinoka and Takumi gasped at her words, and Azura immediately faltered, her gaze sinking low with shame. The only thing that could be heard was a gentle breeze and Sakura’s loud crying.

What was happening to her children? And why couldn’t she do anything to stop them from fighting?

“… This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Takumi muttered. “He could already be dead, is what you said. Ryouma, our eldest sibling. And you just want to throw that possibility of him being alive in the dirt. Why? Why are you three doing that? You just don’t care. You don’t care, at all, and I don’t understand why!” Frustrated tears streamed down his plump cheeks. “I hate you! You don’t care about Ryouma or Father! You just want to move on! And I hate you for that!”

The wooden bow he was holding snapped in his fist. It was just a cycle of outrage and fire between the four siblings.

“I can’t call you two my sisters anymore. And you,” Hinoka growled, shoving her finger at Mikoto, “are definitely not my mother. You can’t call yourselves Hoshidan royals anymore. We are supposed to do everything we can to get our loved ones back. And you aren’t.”

It was a staring contest between the Hoshidan royal children, hatred burning in Takumi and Hinoka’s eyes, while sadness and frustration swam in Azura and Kamui’s. 

“How do you think Ryouma would feel about this?” Mikoto asked quietly, as if tiptoeing into a storm that could swallow her whole. “How do you think he would feel about you two risking your childhoods, your _lives_ , in trying to get him back?”

“Don’t play that card, Mikoto,” Hinoka snapped, and Kamui glared at her. She had completely disregarded her position as Mikoto’s daughter. “Ryouma and Father always encouraged us to follow in their footsteps, to find a weapon we like and use it to protect others. We’re following Ryouma’s advice. But you don’t want us to, obviously.” She threw her wooden naginata to the ground, proceeding to stomp away from the forest. “I’m going back to the castle. Do NOT talk to me or Takumi unless you somehow get Ryouma back. That is the only way I will ever consider forgiving you.”

The gradually decreasing volume of their footsteps haunted Mikoto. She didn’t know what to say to calm her children. And with the way Hinoka kept phrasing things, she always made it seem as if Mikoto didn’t care at all about Sumeragi or Ryouma.

“… I’m sorry, Mother,” Azura hiccuped, a fresh wave of tears riveting down her face. Kamui paced over to her, resting her hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t apologize, Azura. I should be the one to do so. I couldn’t stop them. And I apologize to you too, Tsubaki, for…”

“It is not your fault, milady. This was out of your control.”

Suzukaze turned to Saizo. “Saizo, we’re not picking sides.”

“I know that, Suzukaze.”

“Then don’t run off again. Supporting Mikoto is what we need to do the most right now. I understand your feelings towards Lord Ryouma, but…”

“I don’t need to hear this,” Saizo cut him off, vanishing in a puff of smoke. Suzukaze sighed. He moved next to Mikoto, and she gestured for Tsubaki to return Sakura to her.

“… Let’s return as well.”

The walk home was sickeningly silent, as no one dared to make more sound that needed. It was depressing.

Just as Mikoto was about to open the gate that lead into the back entrance of the castle, she turned to Suzukaze, Azura, Kamui, and Tsubaki. 

“...I am so very sorry, everyone...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the good news: chapter seven is already in the works.  
> the bad news: school is unpredictable.
> 
> hope you enjoyed! next chapter we'll be getting some "quality" marx and ryouma time :p


	7. Noble Cause

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so so so so so so so sooooooo sorry this took so long! almost 2 months without an update, i feel so bad... i dont want anyone to think that im giving up on this, it was just a lack of inspiration, time, and this chapter was just hard to plan by itself.
> 
> however, the good news is that it is summer break! so i have more time to write. yay!
> 
> once more, sincerest apologies. two months is a very long time...
> 
> about the chapter! its nohr pov, and pretty heavy at that. but i hope you enjoy anyway!

Iago dragged Marx and Ryouma through the royal halls of Clarkenstein with bruising holds. Whoever was to receive punishment first, neither boy was sure, for their minds were too occupied by the preceding events in the dining hall.

Marx knew he should have been fearful of what his father was going to inflict upon him soon, but instead Ryouma flooded his entire train of thought. In particular, the way the Hoshidan prince had shielded him. In the almost three days that Ryouma had spent in Krackenburg, Marx had witnessed nothing but undeniable hatred from him. And yet, despite the ire he held, despite the sheer hatred he had displayed earlier, he had brought himself to protect Marx as if nothing was between them.

The blonde turned his head to the right to examine the boy in name. His eyebrows were creased together, and he bore a heavy scowl. Like how Marx imagined himself to look, Ryouma seemed very troubled and confused.

For reasons he was not lenient to believe in, Ryouma felt as if he was in a trance. He did not want to accept that his counterpart to the left of him was the cause of it, but he could not deny that everything in the dining hall seemed as if it had happened in a flash. All his mind could seem to focus on was the adrenaline that coursed through him, the urgency that took over him as he saved the Nohrian prince. What was it that made him do it? Had something from the Nohrians possessed him? Or was Marx really…

Ryouma violently shook his head. Why was he so conflicted? The answer should have been clear. Marx must have tricked him with his vulnerable, weak demeanor as his father struck him. That, or some kind of Nohrian spell.

Because Iago was in between them, Ryouma tried to subtly turn his head left to examine his counterpart. What graced his sight was the Nohrian prince shrinking within himself as successfully as he could, what with his arm in Iago’s cruel hold. His maroon eyes were overspilling with internal conflict, and his face was full of utter confusion. Ryouma narrowed his eyes, restraining the urge to release a hefty, frustrated sigh.

He just wished he knew if Marx was being sincere or not. But at the same time, part of Ryouma cursed himself for even having such doubts.

If only he were more like his father, able to deduce anything and anyone as easily as breathing air, then…

Ryouma suddenly sucked his teeth, which he had been gritting quite furiously for some time. The memory of his beloved father’s fate caused his doubts to vanish with the speed of lightning. How could Ryouma let himself become so distracted, so blinded by Marx’s pitiful demeanor that he lose sight of the very _reason_ why his father was taken away from him? The very reason why he hated Nohrians in the first place?

He felt Iago’s amused gaze turn to him, scrutinizing the Hoshidan prince for the action the twisted man found to be amusing, and at that moment Ryouma longed intensely for his katana.

The Nohrians and the doubts they induced within Ryouma made him feel like he was somehow disregarding his father’s death, and that sole idea infuriated him. He wanted to cut Iago, Marx, and Garon down for making him feel that way. It all made Ryouma wish that he had never jumped in to block Garon’s attack before.

He wished he could revel in the sight of their dead bodies as vengeance was justly served for his late father. He wished that he could slay Garon, but not before seeing the result of Garon’s assault on Marx, his own son. See the way his body lied lifeless on the floor, his dark blood becoming a welcome blend to the pristine black tiles. 

And yet, as he imagined the blond prince with a tearjerking fear in his eyes before being slain, Ryouma was only accompanied with a strong, bitter taste in his mouth. A feeling of repulsion came over him. Did he really wish for something that violent?

The Hoshidan despised this endless contradiction within him. His heart should have known the right answer.

Just as Ryouma was almost finished with his mental tirade, Iago came to an abrupt stop. Both Ryouma and Marx stumbled over their feet a little, but Iago gave Ryouma no time to recover as he dragged him to a door. He groaned, recognizing it as the door of the room he had been confined in earlier.

Iago used magic to open the door, not bothering using the knob. “Get in there, you dog,” he snapped, hurling Ryouma into the room uncaringly. He tried to catch his balance from the sudden force, only to ram into the bed. He whipped his head to look back at Iago, wincing at the muscle he accidentally pulled in his neck in the action. Ryouma got the feeling he would be doing that very often, what with the absence of a certain weight on his head.

“I wonder if His Majesty has regretted kidnapping you yet. You Hoshidans are much more trouble than you’re worth,” Iago scoffed.

Ryouma glared daggers at him, noticing Marx’s downcast gaze in his peripheral vision all the while, but deciding to ignore it. He was truly giving him a headache.

“As glorious as His Majesty is, if I were him, I would get rid of you.”

That was Iago’s last statement before he shut the door closed, leaving Ryouma alone again.

There was absolutely nothing he could do there. Ryouma felt as if sleeping was the only thing that could help pass the time, just like he had been doing earlier. He didn’t want to think about anything Nohrian if he could help it. The only thing Ryouma wanted was to be with his family again and his pride to still be intact on his head.

With a sigh, Ryouma climbed into the bed, bringing the thin sheets over him. He closed his eyes, beckoning sleep to overcome him, but his mind was to wound up to do so. He groaned, rustling around in the sheets. It was difficult for him to clear away the thoughts of his family, Hoshido, and the Nohrians from his mind. He wasn’t sure if even meditating would help dispel those thoughts.

There was one thought in particular that kept bugging him; Garon’s proposal that he be moved out of Krackenburg. It had to have been somewhere near the castle, but the uncertainty was chilling. What would be his fate afterwards? They couldn’t kill him, right? Not after going through all that trouble of kidnapping him.

But as loathe as Ryouma was to admit it, his father’s death seemed effortless to anyone who had witnessed it. Who was to say that his abduction was any less easy?

And yet, a bleaker part of Ryouma was confused that he even cared about what would happen to him next. Dying and being reunited with his father seemed so appealing to him, like it had earlier.

After all, returning to Hoshido was but a distance, unrealistic dream.

   ~

The nervous knots in his stomach were utterly unbearable. This wouldn’t be the first time Marx had been called to the throne room so Garon could speak with him privately, but it would be the first time Marx had outrightly disobeyed him. In his father’s eyes, Marx had and always will be a failure of a crown prince. Tonight had proved that was the case better than any of Marx’s other “disappointments” in his father’s eyes.

Knowing this, if Garon decided to strip his title of crown prince away from him, Marx wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. Despite being the only legitimate child of Garon and Queen Katerina, Garon could easily give that position to one of Marx’s _older_ siblings. Imagining that kind of scenario was quite dreadful for Marx.

And if Garon were to make the high prince of _Hoshido_  into the crown prince of _Nohr_ …

Considering that Marx had barely any power compared to his father, there was no point in fighting back on any decision Garon could make. The only thing he would be able to do at that point was escape Castle Krackenburg. Then, perhaps, doing so with his trusted siblings and Ryouma wouldn’t be such a hopeless dream anymore.

But there were more important matters that Marx had to worry about. Camilla, Leon, and Elise were still alone with their respective mothers, Garon, and the rest of the concubines’ children.

“What are you mulling about?” Iago spat. Marx remained silent, knowing all too well that Iago never wanted an answer when he asked mocking questions. “You and Prince Ryouma did this to yourselves. If only you would just cooperate with His Majesty, then perhaps this wouldn’t be happening,” he continued.

Iago had let go of Marx shortly after dropping Ryouma off, which gave Marx the opportunity to dash off and escape. Even though he knew that he would be caught immediately if he did such a thing, the urge to do so was incredible.

When the grand doors of the throne room came into sight, Marx felt a new rush of fear and anxiety pass through him. Iago looked over at Marx, said nothing, and proceeded to saunter away, leaving the blonde all alone. Marx knew that if he were to wait any longer to enter the throne room, Iago would make a snide remark, and that was something Marx definitely didn’t want to deal with at the moment.

Taking a deep breath, Marx raised his quaking hands to propel the doors open, taking a few steps into the silent area. However, a shriek almost escaped him when he raised his gaze upward.

His father was already here. Seated on the throne with his cheek resting on his fist, his cold, steely eyes were unforgiving as he glared down at Marx. Whenever he was met with that look, Marx always felt incredibly small and inferior, but now he just felt as minuscule as an ant.

Marx didn’t raise his head after meeting Garon’s eyes for that split second. He stepped forward, too fearful to brace himself for anything that was to come. Marx knew his mistake, and he knew it was utterly pointless to try and apologize or explain to Garon.

When the king stayed silent, Marx’s fear only grew. He didn’t even have to look up to know that Garon was still shooting him a glare harsher than death. Sweat gathered in his palms, and the blood pumping in his ears was deafening. Marx wouldn’t be surprised at all if he were to pass out any second.

“…Marx,” Garon muttered, but the sternness in his voice offered no room for defiance or lack of reply. When the young prince finally dared to look up at Garon, a new wave of nervousness washed over him. The amount of sheer hatred, disappointment and utter _blood thirst_  that was exuding from Garon’s maroon eyes was petrifying. While he had seen similar emotions in his father’s eyes before, it was never directed at Marx to this extent before.

“…F-Father…” Marx uttered weakly with a husky, broken voice. The uncertainty and anticipation was torturous. But who was he to wish for it to end, after disobeying his father, the king of Nohr, so blatantly?

He forced himself to step forward, just as Garon summoned Bölverk. At the sight of that cursed demonic axe, the reality that he could be _killed_  by his own father’s hand rose once more, and the urge to plead and snivel for mercy overcame him. Pathetic, he thought bitterly, but what would Camilla, Leon, and Elise do without him? What of Ryouma?

“If only Iago hadn’t stopped me… Then my traitorous son wouldn’t be standing here right before me.” His words were nothing short of chilling; the death wish he had for Marx and Iago was intensely evident in his words.

“Tell me, Marx,” Garon continued, making Marx’s heart race even more than before. “Do you believe you deserved to continue living? To have this chance to be able to stand here?”

The answer was obvious to the both of them. “N-No…” he stammered.

Garon’s eyes narrowed even more. “Hmph,” he grunted, before standing from his throne. Despite walking on the red carpet that led from where he was just seated and not on the tile floor, the clicking made by his heavy metal boots was maddening to Marx. How could a man so imposing that he made his own son want to run away out of fear be called his father?

But the thought that this is _not_  him weighed on the young prince’s mind constantly. It’s what he kept repeating in his mind. He was once kind, caring, empathetic, loving, and encouraging, but now he was cold, ruthless, demanding, and wrathful. Marx considered it impossible for someone to change so drastically, especially someone like his dear father.

“Crying like the pathetic failure you are. I should end you right here,” Garon growled, shaking Marx from his thoughts. How he was able to divert his attention to something else from the present was unknown to him, but that didn’t matter now, as the tears came falling quickly. 

Garon shook his head, slamming Bölverk’s pommel on the floor. The harsh slam made Marx shriek in surprise, making Garon groan. “The least you could do now is give me answers. Why did Prince Ryouma attempt to protect you?”

In turn, Marx had his own question to himself: Why did his throat decide to constrict so much that no words or sound could escape now, of all times?

“Well?!” Garon roared, coaxing another yelp from Marx once more. A dark purple aura began to emit from his diabolical weapon, forcing Marx’s fearful eyes to focus on it.

“I-I don’t know! I don’t know!” He bawled, his previous restraints broken like a snapped thread. “I don’t know why he did that… I don’t know anything!” A hungry frustration overcame his being, almost making him revel in the way the salt from his tears burned his still untreated wound.

A long stretch of silence followed after his outburst, only serving to wedge the pit in Marx’s stomach even deeper.

“F-Forgive me, Father… But you have to understand. If I don’t know why Prince Ryouma was brought here in the first place, then why would I know why he protected me?”

Marx was aware of the fault in that logic; the answer was simply because they were former friends, but there had to be something he could say to open Garon’s enraged eyes. Although it was Marx’s fault that Garon was so furious with him, which made him feel even worse, he couldn’t risk angering him even more.

Garon released a deep rumble of laughter, the mocking tone in it evident, before reverting his face back to its stern, grim expression. “That does not explain why you dared to defy me afterwards.” While his voice was calm, it was obvious that a storm of fury was being held back.

Marx spoke in such a small, high voice that it was almost imperceptible. “I… I-I didn’t mean it-“

“Silence! Now you spew lies to me? There is no end to your abhorrence, is there?!” Garon spat. “You are an upmost failure of a Nohrian crown prince, and my son. I would take your position away and kill you in a heartbeat, if not for Iago.” He paused, letting his biting words sink in.

“But because of Iago’s words, I listened to a request from Orson.”

Marx’s tearful eyes widened. Orson was one of his oldest brothers, and as devious as they get. His mother was very skilled with the lance, and was able to cut down anyone that got in her or Garon’s way with ease. Because of this, she was able to snuggle her way into Garon’s good side, with Orson right behind her. If Marx was telling the truth, Orson would make a fine crown prince, if he let go of his dishonesty, deceitfulness, and haughtiness.

“He was rightfully outraged by your behavior in the dining hall, and made a proposal to me. A duel between the two of you for the title of crown prince, by the end of this week. Depending on the winner of this duel, I will decide what your fate will be,” Garon enunciated.

The wickedness, the diabolicalness, the _inhumanity_  oozing from every one of Garon’s words coaxed even more tears from Marx. The wound on his cheek was burning from the salt seeping into it, adding even more pain to his being. This image of his father really wanted him gone, _dead_ , for someone like Orson. Not just him, but everyone else, save for Camilla, Leon, Elise, and the very few servants that sincerely cared for him.

“Iago has watched you for a long time now, and according to him, you have a “surplus of potential”. What you’ve showed me thus far runs contrary to that observation, but because of Iago’s confidence, I will grant you one last chance. Do not waste my time with your foolishness any longer. Show me you have what it takes to be the crown prince of Nohr.” Not leaving any space for argument or response, Garon sauntered past Marx, leaving him alone in the spacious room.

Despite the extra chance he was given, the only thing Marx’s mind wanted to register at the moment was the manipulation and hatred in Garon’s voice. It was as if there was something on the very tip of Garon’s tongue that wanted to be spoken, but was held back for an unknown reason. It was obvious Iago was controlling the situation; the odd decision of giving Marx another chance was the exact opposite of what Garon wanted before, and yet he did so with such a warning voice, further proving why Garon seemed to have been holding back something.

And this “chance” was none other than a duel with Orson, one of his oldest brothers. It was as if Iago wanted to see just how far Marx’s potential ran, by having him fight one of the people who wanted the title of crown prince the most. Marx couldn’t imagine Orson’s feelings right now; having to see someone as pathetic as Marx with the only legitimacy out of all of Garon’s children, along with bearing the position as the rightful heir, must be infuriating.

Pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket, Marx dried any remaining tears from his eyes and face, mindful of the abused cut on his cheek. While he desperately wanted the sting to go away and get the gash treated, his first priority was to find his siblings. It wasn’t safe to leave them alone, especially after what had happened earlier. All of Garon’s children liked to form small cliques by their mother’s guidance, so as far as everyone else was concerned, Elise, Leon, and Camilla were Marx’s weakness.

And, of course, there was Ryouma.

Back when Garon visited Sumeragi and Mikoto in Hoshido, despite being his old, kind self, he would always bring the children he favored most. Because the concubines stayed behind, their children would act on their orders, spying on how Marx, Camilla, and Leon interacted with the Hoshidans. It was not to gather information on the Hoshidans, as all was peaceful between the two countries, but rather, to discover Marx, Camilla, and Leon’s weaknesses. And Marx did notice, but he didn’t want the Hoshidans to become suspicious, nor did he want to stop Camilla and Leon from spending time with Hinoka and Takumi.

But now, that was all biting him in the back. Murdering Sumeragi and capturing Ryouma played right into the concubines’ favor, and now one of Marx’s sole weaknesses lied right beside them. And while moving Ryouma out of the castle was dangerous by itself, Marx now realized that it would be far more dangerous if he were to stay here in Krackenburg.

Exiting the throne room, Marx set out for the dining hall. It had not been long since he had been taken away by Iago, so perhaps Camilla, Leon, and Elise were still there. Thanks to the short distance, he was able to arrive at the dining hall in less than two minutes.

To his relief, he spotted the three of them there, and everyone else had gone. “Thank you for waiting for me, you three,” Marx announced, hastily coming to their side.

Leon sprinted out of his chair, and tightly wrapped his arms around Marx’s middle. “You’re alright! I was so worried, Marx! Father seemed so mad earlier, and I thought he would do something horrible…”

Marx raised his arm to return Leon’s hug. “Well…” Marx sighed, the tone in his voice drifted into a melancholy one. “Father… Gave me a challenge.”

“Which is?” Camilla asked, her eyes narrowing. She put her hand on Marx’s shoulder.

“…Before I tell you, I just want to apologize. What happened earlier was very uncalled for, and I shouldn’t have put the three of us in danger like that. Now everyone knows how we view Father and his actions, which gives them all a great reason to try and take us out. It was reckless of me to lash out like that before.”

The grip on his shoulder tightened, but there was no malice behind the action. Marx turned his head to Camilla, who only offered a small smile in return. She shook her head. “I don’t know how many times I’ve had to tell you this before, but we can protect ourselves just fine. The sentiment is definitely appreciated, dear brother, but we can’t rely on you if something were to happen to you,” she stated. A somewhat sinister glint appeared in her eyes, causing Marx to raise an eyebrow. “Besides, nothing ever gets past me. Ever.”

“Camilla…”

“Now, before you start self-deprecating again,” she said, ignoring his apology, “was this challenge a duel with Orson, perhaps?”

“…So he made sure everyone heard his proposal to Father, I assume,” Marx sighed.

“Yes,” Leon chimed in. “Everyone said they wanted to watch this duel. That puts quite the amount of pressure on you, Brother. Sorry about that…”

“It’s fine, Leon,” Marx assured, but the uncertain truth seeped out of his words. “That puts pressure on the three of you as well, however. Father will probably only allow the all the concubines and their children to witness the duel, and out of all of them, only you three will be on my side.”

“That’s true… And Elise is too young to understand…” Leon trailed off. “But I believe in you, Marx! You’re strong, and a better crown prince than Orson could ever be.”

“Me as well,” Camilla agreed. “Nothing could defeat my big brother.”

Marx laughed, but there was a tinge of nervousness. “That makes me really happy to hear, you two. But that reminds me…”

“Hmm?”

“Right before we met Elise earlier, I was training to let off some steam. Father caught me, and after I wasn’t able to hit a target the way he wanted me to, he said Ryouma would make a much better crown prince than me. And now Orson challenged me for the title of crown prince, but I think Father has some kind special plan for Ryouma.”

“So Father wanted to replace you with Ryouma? How could he want something like that?” Leon asked, bewildered by the idea. In Leon’s eyes, flaws did not exist in Marx.

“I’ve been showing nothing but weakness to him, Leon. I can see why he would want such a thing to happen.” Leon’s gaze fell, but Marx put his hand under his chin and raised his head up. “But that must change, for our sake, and Ryouma’s.”

Camilla smiled. “Do you want to check up on him?” She asked, flipping her hair.

“… I think that would be for the best. Even if he doesn’t want to see me, we need to talk after what happened earlier. Are you three coming with me?”

“We can’t, I’m afraid. Elise needs to go to bed, and our mother’s told us to meet with them very shortly after dinner,” Camilla explained.

“I see,” Marx replied, to which Camilla nodded. Silence overcame their conversation for a long moment before he spoke up again. "…Well, in that case, you best be heading off. Be careful, please.”

“You too, Marx,” Leon answered. “And make sure you get that cut on your cheek healed! I hate looking at it,” he mumbled.

“I will, don’t worry,” he assured with a laugh. “… Anyway, I’ll be leaving now, and you wouldn’t want to keep your mothers waiting. Good luck.”

“You, too, Marx,” Camilla and Leon wished.

“Oh, but before I go,” Marx announced, moving towards Elise who was sitting in her chair behind Camilla and Leon, “Goodnight, Elise. I’m sorry I can’t spend more time with you, but I will try to make time for you someday. I promise.” He kneeled down to give her a pat on the head, and she giggled.

“I love being with Big Bro! Lots!” Elise exclaimed, seemingly unaffected by what Marx had to say. He shook his head with a smile, before raising and turning to Camilla and Leon one more time. He nodded at them, and they nodded in return as Camilla gathered Elise in her arms and proceeded to walk out of the dining hall, Leon following behind her.

It was hard for Marx to look away from them as they left him. He didn’t want to bring it up to them, but he had an unshakeable feeling that something bad was going to happen. Perhaps it was just nervous energy lingering from his talk with Garon, but the fact that the feeling existed in the first place bothered him greatly.

Hopefully nothing would happen to them while he was gone.

Shaking his head violently to erase the thought, Marx proceeded to the opposite end of the room, wasting no time in opening the grand doors. However, he still checked the inside of his vest for a certain blade that he always kept there. It was a small dagger, one he could bear discreetly in case anyone in the castle dared to strike at him.

Because of the display he caused earlier, perhaps it would be necessary to check for his blade a lot more often now.

Sighing, Marx began to walk to Ryouma’s room, but paused almost immediately after. There was a peculiar sound in the distance, but it was very feint. Marx strained his ears, and the closer he listened, the more it began to sound like footsteps and metal clinking with metal…

 ~

Ryouma was brought out of his sleep by a peculiar sound resonating in the room. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he sat up, surveying the room for anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps a mouse was scuffling around, or maybe someone had just been in there?

Those possibilities were dispelled, however, when the lock on the door began making noise. Ryouma narrowed his eyes; it was locked from the inside, and if any servants were trying to get in, they wouldn’t be taking such a long time and causing such a ruckus with the key. It almost sounded as if they were trying to be cautious of how much noise they were making, whoever it was…

Then, the realization hit Ryouma like a brick wall.

Someone was trying to break in to his room.

Swinging his legs over the edge, Ryouma swiftly got off the bed. He didn’t have a weapon to protect himself, and there was nothing in the room that he could use to protect himself. There was only the adjacent bathroom that he could hide in, but that would offer protection for only a very short time. Ryouma groaned, pacing around the room. Part of him was trying to figure out a way to protect himself, and the other part was questioning why he was even trying to do so, after all his thoughts about wanting to live no longer.

What exactly was causing him to try and fend for his life?

Just as he was about to tell himself to stop the inner turmoil, a louder click sounded from the door, and Ryouma braced himself for the worst. It was unlocked, and this intruder was going to show their self any second.

There was nowhere Ryouma could hide.

The door creaked open, but the intruder dived into the room as soon as there was enough space, immediately catching Ryouma in their sight. It was a boy, about the same age as himself.

The boy wielded a knife, Ryouma registered bitterly, as he lunged right at the brunette. Ryouma rolled to the left as the boy bumped into the bed, before using it to boost himself back forward for another attack. Ryouma jumped away from that one, springing to his feet quickly afterwards. The boy was just as fast as him, however, as he charged at Ryouma for another assault.

Ryouma was not prepared for the Nohrian to be so agile, so all he could do was barely sidestep the attack, bringing his left arm up to try and grab the boy’s arm that was wielding the knife. The unexpected action ended up in the boy crashing into Ryouma, leading them both to land on the ground. He used this chance to subdue Ryouma’s other arm and free his own from Ryouma’s grip. He brought his knife up to strike at Ryouma’s neck, but the Hoshidan raised his knee and aimed it right at the boy’s abdomen. 

However, it did not have the affect he wanted it to have. The boy was barely knocked back by it, and used his elbow to lean on Ryouma’s other arm, rendering both of his arms useless. There was nothing Ryouma could do as the boy raised his knife again, for kicking was useless and struggling out of his grasp was impossible.

“Die!” He yelled, and Ryouma closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain and impact to come. This was it, he thought, and he couldn’t even fight back.

However, all that came was a grunt, and it was not from him. A weight was shoved off of him, and he opened his eyes to see another blonde in the room, tackling the one that was just trying to murder him.

“Marx!” He exclaimed, and the Nohrian in name, who was trying to push the boy back to the ground, only looked back at him in response.

“Stay back, Ryouma! I’ll protect you!”

Protect him?

“But…” Was all Ryouma could say in return, but Marx didn’t answer him. Instead, he focused on the boy under him.

“Surrender, Roland! I don’t want to do this!”

“You think I would surrender to someone like you? I’ll kill you and that Hoshidan instead!” Roland growled, pushing Marx off of him. Marx landed on his backside with a grunt, and Roland wasted no time in bringing his knife up to him. Marx blocked it with his own, catching Roland’s knife wrist with his free hand, and using his his own knife to slash at Roland’s other arm. Roland yelped from the attack, a deep gash forming in his arm with blood already flowing out of it.

Marx used this chance to jump off of him, knife brandished in front of him. “This is your last chance, Roland!”

He scoffed at his words. “And this is just my last chance to kill the both of you!” He sprinted up, using all of his strength to charge at Marx, effectively pushing him against the wall with great force. It knocked the wind out of Marx, but he was still able bring his knife up against him. Roland was faster, however, and he slashed right against Marx’s chest.

Marx cried out in pain, dropping his knife on the floor. Roland snickered, a cocky grin plastered on his face, as he held his knife in front of Marx. “Father couldn’t care less if Orson fought you or not, as long as you die in the end!”

He was too injured to move, and there was no way he could escape from Roland’s attack. Just as his dagger was about to sever Marx’s life, a different one sprung up to block his with so much force that it knocked Roland’s completely out of his hand.

It was Ryouma, standing right before Marx, with his knife in hand.

He spared no glance at Marx, his eyes dead set on Roland. Roland’s eyes were frantic, clueless on what to do in the face of such an action. Ryouma stepped forward, and with no hesitation in his movements, glided the knife straight across Roland’s neck in the blink of an eye.

Roland’s body fell to the floor, blood slowly pooling around his lifeless form. Ryouma watched on silently, not bothering to glance at Marx until he spoke up.

“…You put yourself in danger for me. You didn’t have a weapon, and you could have been killed. Why did you do that?”

“If I hadn’t helped you, you would be dead.” Ryouma turned around to face him, examining the wound on Marx’s chest. He shook his head and moved his gaze to meet Marx’s, eyes harsh but not spiteful.

Marx scowled at his words. “You would have been killed as well!”

He huffed. “Enough! Just… consider it payment for protecting me against your father.” Ryouma studied the gash on Marx’s chest again. It was quite the nasty injury. “…I suppose we can talk about this later. But this castle is very unsanitary, and I wouldn’t want you dying from an infection right after I just saved you.”

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Marx apologized, wincing from the wound he sported. “Elise’s wet nurses should be near her room, and they can heal. Let’s go there.”

Ryouma nodded, but glanced at the ignored corpse on the ground. Marx shook his head at Ryouma. “I’ll tell them what happened,” Marx said, moving to the door and pushing it open. His eyes were exceptionally dark, causing uneasiness in Ryouma that he wasn’t at all pleased with.

“Do you require assistance?” He asked shortly.

“No,” was all Marx said.

-

The walk to Elise’s room couldn’t be any more awkward for the two of them, despite the short distance. Marx had said that it was a straight walk from Ryouma’s room, so he decided to lag behind him. Every time Ryouma glanced back at Marx to check if he was still walking, the blonde would just nod at him in return. 

Ryouma held back a groan. Being around Marx annoyed him quite a lot, simply because of how confused he made him. Ryouma wanted to hate him the way he hated Garon, but the familiar emotion just wouldn’t come to him. Why, was all he could wonder, but he was afraid he knew the answer.

A sharp gasp snatched Ryouma’s attention, and he turned around to see Marx leaning against the wall, hand against his bleeding injury. With a sigh, Ryouma rushed over to him, grabbing Marx’s left arm and bracing it over his shoulders.

“Lean on me. I knew you couldn’t walk like this,” the brunette commanded, shaking his head.

“Thank you. And I’m sorry…” Marx muttered, shifting his weight onto Ryouma.

“Stop apologizing.” was all Ryouma felt like saying. It was surly, dry, and brusque, and he almost felt bad about it, but Marx seemed unfazed by it. In the Nohrian’s eyes, Ryouma had every right to be short with him, or any Nohrian for that matter.

Fortunately for the both of them, they had arrived at Elise’s room shortly after the small handicap began.

“We’re here,” Marx noted, and Ryouma used his free hand to knock on the door. It wasn’t long after Amelia answered, surprised to see a Hoshidan in front of her, but she quickly became surprised for a different reason after seeing Marx’s state.

“Oh, dear!” she exclaimed.

“What is it, Amelia?” Cassita asked, moving to stand from Elise’s bed with a small grunt. “Keep it quiet, Princess Elise just fell asleep-“ A keen gasp escape her when she saw Marx, immediately rushing to examine the wound.

“How did this happen?!” She demanded.

“It was Roland,” Marx strained. “He was trying to assassinate Ryouma, and I happened to be walking in the direction of his room when I heard a peculiar sound. When I arrived there, the door was cracked, and just as he was about to slay Ryouma, I pushed him out of the way and got into a knife fight with him.”

“I’m so glad you arrived in time, milord. But… Is he…” Amelia trailed off, but the indication was clear.

“Yes. We were lucky enough to have tile flooring this time,” he muttered darkly, to which Ryouma gave him a dumbfounded look.

_This time? Had something like this happened before?_

“We need to get that treated right away. I will send for someone to go to Prince Ryouma’s room, and you go ahead and lead them to that spare room, Amelia.”

“Of course. Follow me, you two.” Amelia said, moving in front of them and leading them into an unoccupied room that was only a few doors next to Elise’s. She ushered them in, closing and locking the door behind her.

The room was fairly empty, with only a bed, a dresser, and a small bathroom taking space in it. Ryouma moved to the bed and set Marx down on it while Amelia found the first aid kit hidden within one of the drawers of the dresser. She moved to the side of the bed opposite to where Ryouma was standing, and opened the kit.

“Hang in there, milord,” Amelia encouraged. “I’ll just need to put some salve on it, stitches, and bandage the wound on your chest over. As for your face, just the salve and a bandaid.”

“Okay,” Marx responded. His hands were lying uselessly by his sides with his palms upward, giving Ryouma clear access to the blood stained on it.

Ryouma’s brow creased as he thought about what had ensued earlier. That Roland boy looked to be the same age as Marx, and judging from what he was saying, was aware of Garon’s schemes.

“Who is Roland?” Ryouma asked, to which Amelia looked at him with an unreadable expression.

“He is one of His Majesty’s children, and the son of Concubine Beatrice, to be exact.”

Concubine?

Marx turned his head in Ryouma’s direction. “He’s… one of my half-brothers. My older half-brother.”

Ryouma’s eyes became as wide as saucers. “So those people at dinner weren’t some of Garon’s guests, but his concubines and your half-siblings?” Ryouma knew that Camilla, Leon, and Marx were all half-siblings, but to have _that_  many people be related to each other like that?

“There’s lots of competition in the royal family, Prince Ryouma,” Amelia explained. “Because Prince Marx is the crown prince, there are many who are jealous of his position and want to take him down, as well as the siblings he is close to.”

“They don’t believe I deserve it,” Marx added grimly.

All of this was new to Ryouma. “…Why didn’t you tell me this before, whenever you visited Hoshido?”

“It wasn’t that big of a problem back then,” Marx sighed. “I had many siblings that barely showed their face to you, hence you not knowing about them. They were never trustworthy, always following their mothers like blind dogs, but they never actively struck out. Not until after my father… changed.”

“Changed?”

Amelia took this chance to explain. “King Garon, as you most likely know, Prince Ryouma, used to be very benevolent and warm. He was very peace-loving, until he gradually became more violent.”

“Now he doesn’t even care about his own children anymore. He wants war.”

“Why?” Ryouma demanded, voice more strong than he meant it to be. Maybe he would finally find out why Garon had killed Sumeragi!

“… We don’t know. No one knows,” Marx said defeatedly. Ryouma’s shoulders visibly shrunk from his words. “I know you really wanted to know why this is all happening, and you still do now, of course, but I’m sorry I still can’t offer an explanation. If I had told you “I don’t know”, that would have just made things worse.”

Ryouma didn’t look him in the eye. “… I know.”

“I am finished, milord,” Amelia said to break the silence, helping Marx with sitting himself upward.

“Thank you very much, Amelia. I really appreciate this.”

“It is no problem at all. I am happy to be of service to you,” she smiled, and Marx smiled back at her. As she began to put the first kit away, Marx turned his attention to Ryouma, who moved to sit next to him, leaving a considerable space between them.

“Was it Amelia that healed me so quickly?” Ryouma asked, straight to the point. “I suffered broken bones and a fever.”

“I don’t know, actually. The medics came to examine your wounds and your fever, and they were surprised to see them gone as if they never existed.”

“… Huh.”

Marx ignored that sound. “They said it has only happened one other time in the history of our medicine, but the cause of such a phenomenon is unknown.”

“How coincidental.”

Marx scowled. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but that is what I’m telling you.”

“I know you don’t expect me to. But what other choice do I have now?” Ryouma snapped.

“I’m sorry-“

“Stop it.” A heavy silence made itself comfortable between the two of them, and Marx was at a loss on what to say. He wished Ryouma would just speak his mind and stop with the backhanded, vague comments, as selfish as the wish was.

“Where am I being moved to?” Ryouma asked, purposefully straining his voice to make it less harsh.

“I don’t know. My father hasn’t told me yet,” Marx sighed.

“Hmm.”

“But he’s not letting us see each other, as you heard. He could move you anywhere, and I doubt he will ever tell me. He doesn’t trust me.”

“Especially after what you did earlier,” Ryouma remarked. “But… I think that is for the better, you not being able to come wherever I go.” The meaning in the words was unknown the the Nohrian, and Ryouma’s face expressed heavy inner conflict, like he was having a heated argument with himself. “After what you did for me, maybe I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble again.”

“Even though you hurt yourself, I want to thank you for coming to my aid,” Ryouma continued.

“Thank me?”

“You heard me.”

“…You wont believe me if I say this, but I didn’t want to see you hurt any more than you already have been.”

“I can. Believe that, I mean.” Ryouma paused, knowing that Marx had a very dumbfounded expression on his face even without actually seeing it for himself. 

“I wanted to hate you, your entire family, and all of Nohr for what happened to my father. I wanted to so badly, and I did feel that hatred. You’ve seen part of it for yourself,” Ryouma said, and Marx nodded. “But now, after what you did for me at dinner, after defending me by outright defying Garon, I realized that you really were telling the truth. I felt something shift within me as I saw you helpless on the ground, which is why I jumped in to protect you. My actions plagued my thoughts for a while, because as soon as I was taken to this castle, I thought that all of your attempts at caring for me were disgusting lies, just like how your father did to mine. I was in denial.”

“That’s why you said you had “no other choice” earlier…” Marx said softly, reveling in the revelation.

“…Yes. Someone who was lying to me wouldn’t have risked their own life to defend me. You were going to be killed by your own father had Iago not stepped in,” Ryouma rasped.

“Yes…” Marx’s gaze became downcast at the memory.

“And after we were separated, you came, once more, to my aid. You risked your life for me again. You killed one of your own siblings for me…” The Hoshidan took a pause to breathe and calm down, while Marx winced at his words.

“I tried denying that you cared, over and over again. I felt that…I…” Ryouma’s voice wavered as his eyes watered, causing a sharp pang at Marx’s heart. “That I-I was dishonoring my father by regaining trust in the son of his murderer. I tried to suppress that feeling, for him.

“But I couldn’t. I can’t. And it’s sofrustrating!” Ryouma growled, streams of emotion cascading from his eyes. “I hated myself because of that! I felt that I was weak-willed, and that the feelings I felt for F-Father weren't wholehearted…”

Marx stared at him blankly.

“But now… I-I’ve just… accepted it. I’m tired of all of this. I’m tired of hating, of the rage, of the disgust and the disappointment I harbor for everyone, even for myself. I’m just… tired.”

Ryouma wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, uncaring of the amount of sniffles he was emitting. Marx could only watch as he did so, before suddenly becoming aware of a familiar wetness on his cheeks.

“… My only wish is to return to Hoshido… and to be with Father again…”

“Ryouma…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he croaked.

Unbeknownst to Ryouma, Marx scooted closer to him, carefully setting his hand on Ryouma’s shoulder. He looked over at him expectingly, almost vulnerably.

“Ryouma. I’ve wanted things to change for so long. For my sake, Camilla’s, Leon’s and Elise’s. And I’ve wanted it to change for you as well. I couldn’t stand seeing you have your life, your pride, and your father taken away from you. I couldn’t stand seeing you wish for death to take your pain away. I hated every second of it. That is why I stood up to my Father. He’s in the wrong. And even though you are leaving the castle, I will find a way to see you again. I’m not about to abandon my former best friend.”

Marx’s grip on Ryouma’s shoulder tightened when he heard a small sob escape the Hoshidan. “I only ask that you let me help you through this. I won’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to embrace the trust that you’re regaining in me. It’s selfish, so very selfish…”

“But I will find a way to get you back home.”

He was taken by surprise when Ryouma leaned his head on his shoulder and continued his breakdown. Marx was clueless on what to do with his arms, but he submitted to wrapping one around Ryouma.

~

Little did the two princes know that the wound he suffered trying to protect Ryouma would be miraculously healed shortly after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont think the next chapter will take almost two months to release, so fear not. i still feel really bad tho. go ahead and bash me if you want in the comments, or talk about the chapter!


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